


Such is Us

by surveycorpsjean



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Every pairing, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, OT4, Polyamory, Sexual Content, listen you just have to trust me on this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-03 09:43:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 54,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surveycorpsjean/pseuds/surveycorpsjean
Summary: Prompto just wants to graduate in one piece (and god forbid, maybe make a few friends), but life has a funny way of delivering the unexpected.In which, a simple room-transfer changes his life entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s just a door.

Key, lock, turn – easy peasy and lemons or something.

Prompto fiddles with his key and nearly drops it. The box in his arm almost tumbles over, and Prompto jerks to catch it, cursing.

Honestly, like, get it together dude _._ He’s overacting so bad Prompto would punch  _himself_ if he could.

He squeezes the key in his hand.

Alright. Let’s consider. It couldn’t possibly be any worse than before. And if he doesn’t make any friends, then nothing gained, nothing lost right?

Fresh start, fresh start, fresh start. He’s got this!

Prompto takes a dramatically large breath of air,  and sets the key in the lock. It beeps green, and he turns it, hearing the deadbolt throw. He pushes it open with his elbow, and that big breath of air sucks straight out of his lungs.

The apartment is fine. A different layout than his last unit, (a little more bare, too?) but that’s not the problem.

There is a man across the room. Quite possibly, the biggest man Prompto has ever seen in his life. He’s doing one-armed pullups in a doorway, and he’s so simultaneously hot and scary, it’s almost comedic.

Tattoos up and down his arms, a scar down the side of his face, a long fauxhawk and did Prompto mention the muscles? There are lots of muscles.

Prompto fumbles with his box, and jerks back towards the front door.  

“Uh – sorry!”

The guy looks his way.

“Hey!” He drops out of the doorway, and  turns over his shoulder, “Iggy, new guy’s here!”

A voice comes from the room behind him;

_“Already? I was led to believe they received their keys at eleven.”_

“I’m not a freshman, I’m a transfer,” Prompto says, stepping back in, since it’s obvious that this is his life now. “Um. Hi.”

The guy walks towards him, and stretches out a hand, “Gladio. Senior.”

Prompto takes his hand, fully prepared to have his fingers crushed into tiny bone juice, but Gladio just squeezes politely and shakes.

“Er – Prompto. I’m a second-year.”

Gladio looks him up and down, and smiles at him. It really does away with some of the intimidation.

He tries to peek around Gladio’s shoulder. “Is that room taken?”

“Yeah, you’ll be rooming with Noctis,” Gladio steps back, and points down the hall. “Second door on the left. He doesn’t get back from break until the sixth.”

“Oh.”

Prompto cannot stop looking at Gladio’s tattoo. It’s a  _massive_ bird, with beautiful painstaking detail in the feathers; the head crests over his shoulder, and when Gladio turns back around, Prompto’s jaw drops.

“Ignis is just –“ Gladio turns back, and stops at the look on his face. Prompto clicks his mouth shut. “You good?”

“Sorry! But your tattoo is fucking incredible,” Prompto says. “Holy shit. Bad first impression, but  _dude._  Gorgeous lineart. ”

Gladio laughs, and takes his snapback off, ruffling his hair and flipping it around backwards.

“Thanks.”

A man comes striding out of the bedroom, fingers fixing the buttons on his cuffs. The aesthetic whiplash is enough to make him almost drop his box  _again –_ damnit, Prompto sets it on the ground with finality.

Six, now where’d this guy come from? Styled hair, thin glasses, long legs, he looks like the candidate for a James Bond reboot.

He’s super hot, but he stretches out a stiff hand, and nods cold, “Ignis. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He has a super sexy accent, but it’s a shame he talks with a stick up his ass. Prompto is so caught up in the chilliness of his eyes, that he nearly forgets to shake his hand.

“Um. Nice to meet you too.”

“Forgive me, but I have a presentation on the hour,” Ignis says, checking his watch.

Prompto blinks, and Gladio answers for him.

“Summer classes.”

“Ah. Okay.”

“We will discuss apartment rules and regulations at a later time,” Ignis says. “There is a clean shelf on the bottom right for any of your food items. I cleared a drawer for your cooking utensils, but it is likely you will not need them.” He gathers a shoulder bag, and nabs a key off the hook. “Please refrain from denting any walls during your move. Good afternoon.”

“See ya,” Gladio grunts.

Ignis turns on his heel, and the door clicks shut behind him. It feels like a blizzard just passed through. Prompto blinks rapidly.  

“Don’t mind him,” Gladio says, stretching his arms above his head. He looks behind Prompto, and squints, “Where’s your dolly?”

“Er, they ran out.”

“Damn. Where’s all your shit?”  

“Piled at the bottom of the stairs,” Prompto laughs dryly.

“Huh. Your friends helpin’ you move?”

Prompto snorts.

“No.”  

Gladio pats down his pockets, and fishes out his own lanyard. “I guess we better get started then.”

It takes Prompto a moment to figure out what he means.

“Oh! No! You don’t have to. I-I don’t have that much stuff.”

“Then it’s really no big deal,” Gladio says, passing by him, and fucking  _god_ how tall is this guy? He almost has to duck out the front door.

Prompto feels dizzy; he steadies a hand against the wall, and finally gets a good look at the apartment. 

White walls, super plain, smells clean. Nice furniture though; dark grey couch, yellow pillows, a wooden coffee table and a decent sized T.V. He can see a kitchen around the corner, with a granite bar and a dining room table.

“You comin’?” Gladio asks.

“Oops, sorry!” Prompto scrambles after him. He gets ready to veer left, but Gladio goes right, and Prompto skids a little on the carpet.

“There’s a service elevator at the end of the hall,” Gladio explains. “Nobody ever uses it.”

“Oh, okay.”

Gladio shoves his hands in his pockets, and shoulders open the hallway door for him. Jeez, talk about judging a book by it’s cover. This guy looks like he could take on a bear and  _win,_ but his smile is really pretty. Prompto tries not to stare, but it’s hard not to. He seems like the kinda’ guy that just eats up all the air in the room.

Gladio looks down at him, “Where were you at before?”

“The Duscae.”

“Did you like it there?”

“No.” Prompto laughs. “Obviously.”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Gladio smiles. “We’re farther from campus than the Duscae. Some hate it, some dig it.”

“I don’t care if I have to wake up early,” Prompto says. “Dorm life can suck my dick from the  _back._ ”

Gladio gives a surprised laugh, and holds the elevator button. It makes a disturbing churning noise.

“Couldn’t have said it any better.”

 

* * *

 

Really, Prompto didn’t have that much stuff. Mostly clothes, sheets and towels – and shit to decorate his room with. He has a duffle full of art supplies, and a small box of food that he grabbed from his old dorm. Gladio carries the heavy boxes without even breaking a sweat, so Prompto is definitely going to have to buy him a pizza or something.

He doesn’t  _pry —_ but Prompto tries to get a feeling for his new roommate by peeking through his stuff. Noctis, was it? He has a lot of dark clothes (but so does Prompto, so no judgment there), and his comforter is black, but other than that his room is pretty bare. His clothes are messily shoved in the top two drawers, and his bedside table is cluttered with random paraphernalia, but otherwise; boring.

Well, Prompto will just have to wait and meet him.

He hears the front door unlock later that night, and Prompto is sure to stay clear out of Ignis’s way. He’s not inherently mean, but Prompto isn’t going to stick his nose where he isn’t wanted.

Gladio is kinda’ nice though. He is apparently allergic to shirts, so Prompto will just have to be extra careful.

_Don’t stare at his pecs, don’t stare at his arms, but oh my god his hands are so big he could– no! Stop! –_

Prompto’s stomach is knotting from hunger, so he sneaks out to fish through what little he brought with him. Gladio is on the couch, book in hand, and he doesn’t even look up.

“Hey.”

“Hiya!” Prompto waves. He peeks over and sees the other bedroom door shut tight, so he rummages through the kitchen and finds a packet of ramen. Aha!

But hm. He doesn’t own any pans.

“You can use whatever we have,” Gladio says. Prompto blinks, because that seems like something Ignis would extremely protest, but Gladio can apparently read minds. “Ignis won’t care.”

“If you say so…” Prompto squats down, and starts to rummage through the pans. They’re stacked neatly, and color coordinated.

Gladio sets down his book and rests his cheek in his hand.

“Now, I’m gonna’ throw out a guess here. Performance major?”

Prompto grins, “I do play a mean triangle.”

“Hmm. Theater?”

Prompto laughs. Stops, and then laughs again. Gladio cracks a smile.

“That’s definitely a no. Art?”

“Ding ding ding!” Prompto beams. “What gave it away?”

“Your pants have paint stains on them,” Gladio says. Prompto nearly pops his back trying to twist around and look. “And there’s no way you’re a culinary major.”

Prompto rips open the ramen flavor packet with his teeth and shrugs.

“I want to do photography, so I have no other choice than to get a BA.” Prompto laughs, “I switched three times last year tryna’ figure out what I wanna’ do.”

“We’ve all been there, man.”

“What about you?”

“Law,” he says, straight faced.

Prompto turns.

“No.”

Gladio grins, “Kidding. Sports and medicine.”

“There we goo,” Prompto sings, leaning back up against the counter. “No offense dude, but you do not look like the guy who’s gonna’ go for a standard white-collar nine to five.”

Gladio laughs again, and Prompto can feel the physical relief at knowing at least  _one_ person here won’t hate him.

“And  _you_ are burning that ramen.”

“Shit!”

 

* * *

 

 Prompto keeps all his stuff tucked neatly on his side of the room. He took the side of the sink that had empty drawers, so he hopes Noctis doesn’t mind.

The new semester starts tomorrow, which means his new roommate comes home tonight, and he’s tucked himself up against the wall of his bed, fiddling with his laptop to keep himself from being nervous. He hung up a strand of fairy lights over the top of his bed, but shoved the rest in a bin. (Can’t be too flamboyant, yet).

Prompto already got groceries, did laundry, and made dinner, sorta, but the nervous energy won’t leave.

The door creaks open a quarter to eight, and a dark-haired guy comes shuffling in. His hoodie is up, and he has dark circles under his eyes, and he has a backpack over his shoulder. He stops in the doorway, and stares at Prompto. Prompto stares back.

Noctis blinks, and Prompto scurries out of bed.

“Uh! Hi!” He sticks out a hand. “I’m –“

“Prompto,” Noctis says. He chucks his backpack on his bed, and pulls down his hood. “Iggy told me.” 

“And you’re-“

“Noctis.” He slides open the top drawer, pulls out a handful of clothes, and shuts it. Be it to fate that he’s also really pretty, but that seems to be a reoccurring theme here. Prompto stares, and squints.

“Hey, haven’t I seen you before?”

Noctis utterly freezes. Rigid straight, head forward, unmoving.

“Mm?”

“Yeah…” Prompto trails, startled. “Uh. Math, last semester?”

Noctis physically sags.

“Um. Yeah.” He doesn’t look Prompto in the eye, and reaches for the door. “Nice meeting you.”

He steps out, shuts it behind him, and Prompto is left standing in the middle of their room. He brings his hand into his other palm, and rubs his thumb into his fingers.  

Well. That was great.

Prompto shrugs. Could be worse, he supposes. He bounces back on his bed, and pops open his laptop again.

 

* * *

 

 A week goes by, and Prompto can count the amount of times he’s seen Noctis on one hand.

Noctis seems to spend all his time in the other bedroom. He goes in there after school, and doesn’t come out until morning. Once or twice Prompto catches him sneaking clothes, but that’s just about it.

Prompto switched his deodorant like, twice, okay. He’s 99 percent sure he doesn’t smell. And he can’t be  _that_ ugly, right?  

School is as he expected. Two weeks in, and he’s already neck deep in obscure art projects. He’s currently trying to build the capital of Lucis out of elbow macaroni for his sculpting class, but it’s pretty much going as anticipated: terribly.

Gladio is doing homework at the coffee table. He has a textbook in his lap, and his hair is up in a messy bun, and he’s the only one around here that seems to tolerate Prompto’s presence, and Prompto appreciates that more than he lets on.

It’s Friday already, and he’d go out and uh, do something, but. He’s not really chomping at the bit to hang out by himself.

The second bedroom door opens, and out comes Ignis. He looks a little more human today, just in dark jeans and a t-shirt, but he still holds himself with this cool indifference that’s kinda’ intimidating. They haven’t spoken much, and that’s pretty much ‘cause Prompto turns tail whenever he sees him.

“Oh, Prompto,” Ignis says. “I say, are you rather busy?”

“Huh?” Prompto looks back to the sad, glued macaroni chunk on his plate. “I mean. It’s just homework.”

“I won’t bother you then,” Ignis says. “I’ve been trying to catch you this last week, but it seems you are a busy man.”

Oh, jeez. The roommate meeting. Yeah, he hasn’t been too excited about that either.

“It’s really not that big a deal. We can meet now, I have all weekend to build this masterpiece.”

Gladio looks up, and then down, and snorts. “You’re sure you’re an art major?”

“I want to do  _photography,_ okay? Not sculpture,” Prompto huffs. Gladio laughs.

Ignis’s face…softens. Prompto thinks that might be a smile.

“Alright then. I’ll fetch Noct.”

Noct is  _here?_ Jeez, shows how much Prompto knows.

A moment later Ignis comes back out of the room with Noctis on his tail. He won’t look at Prompto, face first in his phone. Super social guy, real friendly.

Ignis takes a seat at the chair across, and Noctis flops over by Gladio on the couch.

“Now, it’s nothing you haven’t heard before. No smoking indoors, no pets, no guests past midnight, but we are lenient if given notice.”

“We don’t really follow the alcohol rule either,” Gladio grunts. “We won’t tell.”

Prompto looks to Ignis. He chooses to stay silent. Prompto blinks, “Oh. Okay.”

Ignis flips open a piece of paper – and uh, somehow he has a copy of Prompto’s housing contract. He turns it to the back page, and clicks his pen.

“I just wanted to be sure of anything you wished us not to touch. The three of us share near everything, by habit.”

“Oh, uh,” Prompto thinks. “Nah, I mean...you guys can use anything I have, but I don’t got much.”

“You’re welcome to our kitchenware,” Ignis says.

“Thank you!”

“We share a lot of food,” Gladio says.

“I’ll stick with what I have for now,” Prompto says.

Ignis gives him a strange look, but doesn’t press. Ignis asks him a few more questions, scribbles on the back of the contract, and then stands up to leave. Noctis is up and off the couch before Ignis can even say  _alright, that’s it._

Ignis follows him into the room, and the door shuts. Gladio flips the page in his textbook.

“Is he always like that?” Prompto asks.

“Which one?”

“Both I guess.”

“Yes and no,” Gladio says. Prompto doesn’t ask which, so he plugs his glue gun back in, and starts at square one again.

 

* * *

 

After another three days, Prompto just figures he won’t have a roommate this year. So, he goes ahead and puts up the rest of his decorations. He hangs a few posters, sets out some candles, and mounts the rest of his lights.

He tries to stay out of the way of his roommates. It still feels a little weird; like he’s living in someone else’s home, so he does his work in his room when he can. His social science and art history classes are majority textbook work, so that’s all good and fine, but  _fuck_ those sculpture projects man.

Sometimes he hears laughing out in the living room. The T.V. will run, and he’ll hear noise in the kitchen, and he really wants to go out and join — but Prompto doesn’t want to spook Noctis away, so he keeps to his bed.

Their room has a nice view of the backside of campus. There’s lots of green grass and trees, and he can’t wait for them to turn orange in the fall. The room gets hot with the afternoon sun, but there’s not much you can do about that.

Orange sunlight is catching on his textbook through the open window, and Prompto realizes that he hasn’t even eaten today. He  _ran_ to class this morning – mismatched socks, damp hair, the whole nine yards.

His stomach growls. Prompto listens, and doesn’t hear any chatter in the living room, so he figures it’s okay. He pops open the door and looks around the corner — and Ignis is in the kitchen.

Well, a guy’s gotta’ eat.

Prompto steps out, and gasps.

“Oh wow,” Prompto peeks over the bar. “Ignis, it smells amazing in here.”

“Thank you,” Ignis says. He’s chopping a pepper very finely, and his technique is like, crazy good. He looks like all the fancy chefs on the cooking channel. An apron is wrapped at his waist, and his button-down is rolled to his elbows, and it nearly gives Prompto a heart attack.  

He takes in a deep breath, and walks behind Ignis to reach for his top ramen on the shelf.

“What are you making?”

“A burgundy beef stew,” Ignis says. “With a few changes.”

Prompto’s mouth waters. The pot is  _huge._ Ignis isn’t being as chilly as usual, so Prompto figures it’s okay to strike up a conversation.

“Wow, planning on leftovers?”

“No,” Ignis smiles – and wow. Wow. “I have cooked for Gladio and Noctis for a long time.”

Prompto mumbles  _‘scuse me,_ and reaches down for a pot. “Are you a culinary major?”

Ignis arches an eyebrow, “No. Political science.”

“No shit!” Prompto blurts, and covers his mouth. “Sorry. Are you serious?”

“Cooking is merely a hobby of mine,” Ignis says, sliding the peppers into the pot. Prompto begins to fill his own with water, and sets it on the far burner. “I am aiming to intern as a legislative assistant by graduation.”

“Damn. One hell of a hobby, dude. Props to you.”

“I rarely catch you in the kitchen. What do you typically prepare?”

“Uhhh…” Prompto blinks. “Frozen burritos. And ramen. It’s been mostly ramen this week.”

Ignis stops point blank, and sets down the knife he was holding.

“Is this true?”

“Yeah,” Prompto scratches his neck. “Don’t laugh. I’m not culinarily inclined.”

“What did you last eat today?”

“Nothing?” 

“God, you are just as bad as Noct,” Ignis says. He turns back and begins to slice another pepper. “Put that pot away. You are eating with us.”

“Huh??”

Ignis plucks the ramen packet out of his hand, and flips it over to read the backside.

“The sodium in this could stop your heart six times over.”

“If only I was so lucky.”

Ignis gives him an unimpressed look, and shoos him away from the burner.

“Set the table. This is merely unacceptable. I will adjust my meals for four.”

“Dude — I can’t eat your food. It’s not right.”

“Buy dish soap and paper towels, and we shall be even.”

“That doesn’t count as even!”

Ignis looks down at him, and the look is  _freezing_ cold, piercing green eyes with a set-in frown to match, so Prompto quietly sets the dinner table.

The front door opens and shuts, and Gladio comes out looking like a honeydipped underwear model. He’s in low Adidas sweatpants and a muscle tee, and his gym bag is thrown over his shoulder, and Prompto’s entire face goes hot.

“Smells good Iggy,” Gladio says. Ignis nods.

“Shower, and then we can eat.”

Gladio leans over the bar and grins, “Why? I smell  _great._ ”

Ignis presses a hand to his face and pushes, and Gladio laughs, falling back.

“Hey Prompto,” Gladio waves. “How was class?”

“I got a B for my Macaroni Palace,” Prompto says. “Apparently it needed more depth.”

“As deep as a Macaroni Palace can get.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Gladio laughs, and ruffles his hair as he passes by. He steps into the bedroom, and there’s a mumbled hello from Noctis before the door shuts.

Prompto feels a hand up to his hair, and flushes.

It’s not long until Gladio comes back clean in sweatpants, Noctis following behind him. Noctis gives a half nod to Prompto, before settling at the end of the table.

Prompto helps Ignis move all the food over. There’s rolls and butter and even the fancy sparkling water.

“Prompto is eating with us from now on,” Ignis explains.

Noctis’s head snaps up, and he looks almost angry.

“Y-You really don’t have to,” Prompto sits, fumbling with his napkin.

“He likes to feed people,” Gladio says. “It’s best not to argue with him.”

“Thank you so much. Really.”

The stone mask chips, and Ignis smiles again.

“You are welcome.”

Noctis is a brooding black hole at the end of the table. Prompto busies himself in the soup, so he won’t be on the end of that glare. He tries not to eat too fast, but hell, it’s  _really_ good.

The mood is on the verge of awkwardness, but Gladio is amazing at easing tension.

“So how’re classes Iggy?”

“A dream, compared to last semester,” Ignis says.

“Why did you do summer classes?” Prompto asks, and then bites his lip.

“To ease the work load on my remaining semesters,” Ignis says. “I was available. It seemed logical.”

“Turned out to be the hellhole of all schedules,” Gladio explains.

“Jeez. You’re a senior?”

“Now, yes,” Ignis says.

Prompto takes another swallow of the soup, and sighs.

“And you’re sure you’re not a culinary major? You aren’t taking night classes like some kind of cheffy vampire?”

Ignis starts to  _laugh._ He covers his mouth, and turns away.

Gladio grins, “He started cooking because Noctis was living off a diet of Redbull and frozen Taquitos.”

“Oh my god, me,” Prompto says.

Noctis stands up, and leaves the table. He walks back to the other bedroom, and slams the door shut. Prompto sinks down in his chair. The mood plummets. 

Ignis pushes up his glasses, and rubs his eyes.

“Sorry,” Prompto whispers.

“It’s not you,” Gladio says.

“Yes, please forgive him. He had a stressful break, and is still recovering.”

“Oh,” Prompto says.

“He’s not good with people as it is.”

“Have…have you guys been friends for a while?”

Gladio opens his mouth, but Ignis cuts him off.

“Old friends,” Ignis says. “For quite some time.”

“Ah…” Prompto fiddles with his spoon. “Well I hope he feels better.”

Ignis looks to the door, and sighs.

“Excuse me,” he says tightly, and stands. He shuts the door behind him, and Prompto swallows.

Gladio seems unaffected; he merely grabs another serving, and says,

“Tell me about your camera.”

 

* * *

 

 Prompto kinda’ feels bad.

He’s halfway home, shoulder aching from the weight of his backpack, when he passes the local coffee shop. There’s a few donuts still in the display box, so Prompto nudges open the door and peeks in.

He has no idea what to get. Prompto chooses an iced coffee, and a chocolate donut at random. He gets a croissant for himself and stuffs the whole thing in his mouth during the rest of the walk home.

Prompto likes his Tuesdays. He only has one class before he gets to come home, and by then he can spend the rest of the afternoon working on that stupid sculpting homework.

It takes him a few tries to get the key in the door. He eventually pops it with his knee, and slides his backpack on the recliner.

Prompto peeks in his room, on the off chance he might see Noctis in there. It’s empty, as usual. He patters over to the other bedroom, and knocks on the door.

“Noctis?”

Silence.

Prompto knocks again.

“Hey um.” Prompto stirs the coffee with his wrist. Shit, the ice is melting. “Noctis? Are you in there?”

He stops and listens. A very quiet, very low.

_“Hm.”_

“I got you something,” Prompto says. “I mean, I got you food. Sort of. It’s not like, food food. It’s a donut. I actually don’t know if you like donuts. If you don’t that’s fine, I mean, I’m not a huge fan of the jelly ones but like – “

The door opens.

Noctis is in joggers and a t-shirt, and his hair is fluffed up one side, but Prompto is beginning to think that’s just how he looks.

“Hi,” Prompto blurts.  

“…Hi,” he wearily repeats.

Prompto holds out the bag, and the coffee.

“Ignis said you’ve been having a hard time,” Prompto says. As if that makes any sense. Prompto cringes. 

Noctis stares at him. Like, for a long time. Prompto’s arm begins to waver, but Noctis slowly takes the bag, and the drink.

“Thank you.”

“Your – You’re welcome,” Prompto starts, but jumps when his phone buzzes. It sounds especially loud, but he realizes it was because Noctis’s buzzed at the same time.

Prompto pulls it out of his pocket and laughs nervously.

“Ah, King’s Knight update.”

Noctis blinks. He tips his head a little, like a dog.

“You play too?”

“Yeah!” Prompto turns his phone around. “Level 56, baby.”

Noctis stares a moment longer, and his lip twitches upwards.

“Level 63.”

The door shuts in his face, but Prompto doesn’t feel too upset about it.

 

* * *

 

 “Ah, shit." 

His eraser is so worn down that the metal end leaves a streak across the paper. He tries to buff it with his finger, but it just smudges more.

Prompto has no fucking idea how anatomy is supposed to work. He presses his forehead to the desk and groans. It’s not due until Monday, but he’s already considering his other options. Working at McDonalds. Becoming a stripper. Becoming a stripper at McDonalds.

The bedroom door creaks open, and Prompto sits up straight. Noctis pauses in the doorway, and he’s actually dressed today; black drop crotch pants and a baseball tee.

“Oh,” Noctis looks up. “You redecorated.”

Prompto rubs his neck. “Uhhhh. Yeah. Is that okay?”

Noctis looks at Prompto’s corkboard – now stocked with pictures and movie stubs and random magazine ads. He nods thoughtfully.

“I like it.”

Prompto realizes that he’s looking at one of his posters.

“Are you a Zelda fan?”

“Majora’s mask is a peak gaming experience,” Noctis says.

“Nothing quite like a terrifying moon monster hovering over your shoulder.”

“Feels kinda’ like my deadlines right now,” Noctis says, and it surprises a laugh out of Prompto.

Oh jeez, are they having a real conversation? Prompto’s brain sputters to come up with something, anything to say.

“Did you have class today?”

“No,” Noctis says. “It’s Saturday.”

Right. Shit.  _Stupid._

Noctis snorts, and Prompto realizes with horror that he said that out loud.

“Why are you doing homework?” Noctis opens the closet, and digs for a pair of boots. Prompto doesn’t seem to come up with an answer in time, because he raises an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be out with your friends?”

“I don’t have any friends,” Prompto blurts. God damnit.

Noctis blinks, startled.

“I mean. I used to have friends. But like, they were kinda’ draggin’ me down, so.” Prompto makes a scissor motion with his fingers, “Snip snip.”

Noctis looks at him thoughtfully. He stares a moment longer, and then laces up his boots.

“Good for you,” he says, and walks out the door.  

Prompto doesn’t know what to make of Noctis. But he starts coming around more, and Prompto thinks that’s what they call  _progress._

He even begins to sleep in his own bed; not all the time, but it happens. Prompto shouldn’t be so excited about having to share a bedroom, but alas. A side effect of loneliness, he guesses.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this takes place in a weird mashup between real life and ffxv reality because im the dungeon master and I say so


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto has half an hour between classes, so it gives him time to cross campus. His second class is way the fuck in C building, which might as well be in Narnia, so Prompto tries to eat and walk.

(Eat: Verb. Definition: to consume one of the cookie crisp bags out of the vending machine and ignore the heartburn).

It’s warm out today, so Prompto ties his flannel around his waist and works his way through the courtyard. Flowers are blooming along the sidewalk, and Prompto stops to take a super-quick picture for his Instagram. There’s a gathering of students by the tables, and Prompto wonders if it’s a tour; but no, they look too old and socially confident to be high school students.

Prompto spots Gladio sitting on one of the table tops. He has an Arizona tea in one hand, and he’s talking excitedly with the other. The girls he’s with are super pretty – and the guys, even – and still, Gladio sticks out like a sore thumb. He’s just  _that_ hot.

Gladio spots him out of the corner of his eye, and Prompto gives a little wave, prepared to be ignored – but Gladio hops off the table and shouts.

“Hey! Prompto!”

He smiles, and tries to walk away, but Gladio waves him over.

“Hey guys,” Gladio wraps an arm around Prompto’s shoulders. “Meet the new roomie.”

“Ohh! This is him?” A girl smiles. “He’s so cute!”

“Nice to meet you!”

“Hiya,” Prompto smiles.

“Kid’s real nice,” Gladio jostles him, and Prompto nearly bites through his cheek. “He’s an art major.”

“Oh baby,” Gladio’s friend sighs. “A moment of silence for the hill you’re about to die on.”

“My sleep schedule thanks you,” Prompto makes prayer hands. Gladio refuses to pull his arm away, so Prompto just assumes he’ll die here.

“Where are you headed?” Gladio asks.

“C building. Yay art history.”

“I’ll take ya’.”

Prompto blinks, “You really don’t have to.”

“Nah.” Gladio waves to his friends, “Catch you guys at lunch tomorrow.”

“Bye!”

“Don’t forget to check the Google Doc tonight!”

“Yeah yeah whatever,” Gladio waves, and steers Prompto away. “What floor are you on?”

“Third,” Prompto says. Gladio finally pulls his arm away, but Prompto can still feel his heart in his ears. “What about you?”

“Second. Exercise physiology,” Gladio says. “The bane of my existence right now.”

“Is it that bad?”

“It’s more science then I’d like,” he says. Gladio holds the door for him when they enter the building, and damn, it’s such a shame that Gladio is the straightest guy on the planet, because he might as well check every box on the  _Prompto’s Type_ list. “Hey, what are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing, probably,” Prompto says. “Why?”

“We’re going out for pizza. A new place opened up on 8th street.”

“Dude, that sounds awesome. You, Ignis and Noctis?”

“Yeah.”

“Ahh…then I probably shouldn’t.”

Gladio frowns, “Why not?”

“I don’t think Noctis likes me…” Prompto scratches at his head. “I mean. He’s finally started talking to me, and I don’t want to push it, you know?”

Gladio pats his shoulder, “He’s warming up to you dude. Don’t worry too much about it, just meet us by the campus gate at seven.”  

“But, uh-“ Prompto doesn’t get a chance to argue, because Gladio steps out on the second floor, and waves goodbye. “Err- okay,” Prompto says, mostly to himself. He does his best to focus in class, but he ends up doodling in the margins of his notebook for the full three hours.

 

* * *

 

 They’re already waiting at the gate when Prompto gets out of class. Ignis is leaning up against the wall, talking, and Noctis is bouncing on the heels of his feet, hands in his pockets. Gladio says something, and Noctis laughs – but he sobers as soon as Prompto gets within earshot.

“Hey,” Gladio extends a hand, and Prompto claps it. “Ready to go?”

“Sure. How far is it?”

“Not far at all,” Ignis says. He starts to take the lead, and Noctis falls into step at his side. “Did class go well?”

“I guess. We have another research paper due next week.”

“How long?” Noctis asks.

“Six pages.”

“Yuck.”

“I know,” Prompto says. He looks up at Gladio – but he’s texting as he walks, so Prompto adjusts his bag on his shoulder, and clears his throat. “So uh, what’s your major, Noctis?”

“Undeclared.”

“Can’t make up his mind for shit,” Gladio grunts.

Noctis rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’m doing my prereqs.”

“Might as well,” Prompto says. “What are you interested in?”

Noctis shrugs. Prompto figures that’s as good an answer as he’ll get.

But Ignis elbows him a little, and says, “He has plenty of interests. He is hesitant to narrow down one.”

“I’m bad at school,” Noctis states.

“So am I man, I still can’t believe LIU accepted me. My grades were horseshit.” Noctis makes a noise of agreement, but Prompto flushes a little, forgetting that Ignis is right there. He seems like the kind of guy that surrounds himself with intellectuals – and Prompto doesn’t meant to make himself sound  _dumb —_

But Ignis says, “Different minds excel at different things. Not everyone can learn the same way.”

Prompto doesn’t know what to say to that. But it makes him feel better.

“Hey guys, we’re passing the Barf Bush,” Noctis says. Gladio groans.

Prompto stares.

“Excuse me?”

“Gladio threw up on that bush after chugging a bottle of Tequila,” Noctis points. “All hail.”

“My respects,” Ignis nods. Gladio rolls his eyes, and Prompto tries super hard not to laugh.

They stop at a crosswalk, and Prompto can see the neon pizza sign up ahead. He shoves his hands in his pockets, and kicks at a pebble in the road. Gladio is almost two heads taller than him, and Prompto notices how he’s placed himself between Prompto and the busy street. Noctis whispers something to Ignis, and Ignis’s shoulders shake a little with a silent laugh. Prompto is curious.

“So, how long have you guys known each other?”

“Since we were children,” Ignis says.

“I met Iggy when I was five,” Noctis explains. “I can’t remember when I met Gladio. When did we first start– “ He cuts off, and turns to Gladio.

“I was ten,” Gladio answers. “You were seven.”

“Then yeah.”

“I believe I was introduced to Gladio around the same time,” Ignis says.

“Damn, that’s a long time.” Prompto blinks. “Lucky that you all ended up in the same apartment, huh?”

“A few strings were pulled. I won’t say much more,” Ignis says. Prompto laughs.

Gladio holds the pizza parlor door open above their heads, and immediately Prompto is smacked in the face by the smell of cheese.

“Oh god,” Prompto moans, and nearly sways backwards. Gladio catches him by the shoulders. For a second, he thinks he sees Noctis smile at him. “That smells like porn,” Prompto whines. Gladio laughs.

“Deep dish pizza,” Ignis explains. “I have been meaning to try it.”

They order two pizzas, (one plain, for Noctis), and Prompto tries to pay his part, but Ignis refuses to take the money. It’s busy in here – all likely students, so you can barely hear the music over the chatter.

Noctis leads them over to a plastic red booth, and they slide in. Prompto is a little surprised when Ignis decides to sit next to him, so he tries to wedge himself by the wall to give him enough room.

Gladio and Noctis immediately pull out their phones. Ignis is a little more tactful, but does so as well.

Prompto nearly jumps when Noctis shoves his phone in his face.

“Here,” Noctis snaps. “Put in your friend code.”

Noctis has King's Knight open. Prompto wearily puts in his code, and he can see Gladio smirking at him like a know-it-all from the corner of his eye.

“Here.”

“I’ll add you to our party,” Noctis says. He pauses. “Unless you’re already in one.”

“Nope,” Prompto grins. “All solo.”

“You’re level 56  _solo?”_  

“I have nothing to do between classes, okay?”

 A moment later Prompto gets a notification. He hits accept, and he’s added to a party with Noctis, Gladio, and funny enough, Ignis.

“Gladio is your  _healer?”_  Prompto laughs. “That’s a surprise.”

“So he says _,_ but Gladio has allowed me to die three times today,” Ignis says.

“Dude, quit running off and I’ll fuckin’ heal you,” Gladio snaps.

Prompto tsks, “Should’ve picked Mercy.”

The joke goes above Ignis and Gladio’s collective heads, but Noctis starts to laugh. Hislaugh is so pretty, it’s airy and light and not at all the person who’s been slumping around their apartment.

Their pizza arrives, and Prompto keeps their hands away from it long enough to take a picture. As soon as he sets down his phone, half of the pizza is gone. Prompto grabs a slice and sits cross-legged in the booth, playing the game one-handed.

Gladio and Ignis are talking about books now, and Noctis keeps tapping Prompto’s wrist to get his attention over the noise, and Prompto is starting to feel a little more like he belongs.

If they’re just being polite, then Prompto appreciates that too.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t notice an immediate change – but Prompto slowly realizes that he’s spending more time outside his room.

Ignis and Gladio started a  _Heroes_  marathon last week, and Prompto has to make a human foot out of clay, so he was present for about ninety-percent of said marathon. Noctis came out of their room in the evening and squished himself between Gladio and Ignis on the couch.

They’re really comfortable with each other; Gladio’s arm thrown over the back of the couch, Noct’s feet kicked up on Ignis’s – but they’re childhood friends, and Prompto isn’t sure if he should have expected any different.

“I know she’s whack, but Nikki is hot,” says Gladio.

“Agreed,” Prompto nods, from the table.

“I thought you weren’t into blondes,” Noctis says. Prompto rubs at his cheek, suddenly self-conscious.

“I’ve never said that in my  _life,”_ Gladio snaps. “Also, she can rip people in half. That’s hot.”

“You’re fucked up,” Noctis says.

Prompto hums thoughtfully, “Okay, but in Gladio’s defense, Sylar is a serial killer and  _he’s_ super hot too.”

Prompto is given just enough time to completely have an existential crisis, because  _god fucking – did I really just out myself –_

“He does have a point,” Ignis says.

“Yeah alright,” Noctis snorts. “I’ll give you that.”

“How’s your foot coming along?” Gladio asks.

Prompto wordlessly holds up what looks like an elongated hoof. Noctis just straight up laughs, but Gladio scratches at his beard and hums.

“Abstract.”

“I’m counting the days until next semester.”

“Why?”

“I  _finally_ start my photography classes.”

Noctis sets his head on Gladio’s shoulder and says, “What a shame. I think you have a big sculpting career ahead of you.”

“Oh fuck off,” Prompto says, and then swallows, because he’s not sure if they’re  _those_ kind of friends yet – but Noctis just snorts.

Noctis’s personality blooms by the day. Prompto feels lucky, like he’s getting to see more of him piece by piece. Ignis remains a cloud of mystery, but Prompto is pretty sure that’s just how Ignis is.

Ignis pauses the T.V., and Noctis complains.

“It’s seven. I ought to start dinner.”

“So?” Noctis takes the remote and hits play. Ignis takes it back, and hits pause.

“So? If you remember, Gladio and I started this.”

“And? Rewatch it later.” Noctis tries to steal the remote back, but Ignis hands it over Noct’s head to Gladio. “You asshole.”

“I’m making a vegetable stew, just for that,” Ignis says. Noctis shuts his mouth, and slides back into the couch.

Gladio grins, “Hey. Let’s play Assassins Creed.”

Noctis perks up like a dog.

“Alright.”

“You guys have a PS4?” Prompto peeks around his lumpy sculpture.

“Yeah man. You wanna’ play?”

“Isn’t it single player?”

“I went to Kindergarten. I can take turns,” Noctis snaps.

“Calm down, Princess,” Gladio crawls into the cabinet under the  T.V. and fishes out the game. “We all know you’re a big fan.”

“Hey, you have a Wii too?” Prompto stands up, and slides over to the couch, where Ignis was. “If you have Mario Kart then it’s over for all you bitches.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t use such strong words, you know not of what you speak of,” Ignis teases. He washes his hands, and rings them with a towel. Damn, his shirt sleeves are pushed up again.

“Ignis is good at one game and one game only, and that’s Mario Kart.”

“A worthy challenger.” Prompto lifts his arms in a karate position. “Little do you know, I’ve trained on the mountains of DK.”

“After dinner,” Ignis points with his knife, voice steady, and Prompto has never gotten a boner so fast in his life.

He’s jostled back into real life when Noctis flops back down on the couch, controller in hand; their shoulders are touching, but Noctis doesn’t move, so Prompto won’t either.

 

* * *

 

 Seven weeks in, and Prompto hasn’t seen him once.

He’d count that as a serious victory, but if Prompto is being honest, seven weeks is not long enough.

Printing is free in the library, so Prompto waits in the line, and fiddles with his flashdrive. He mentally runs through the script of his presentation–  _painters of the Baroque period, such as Caravaggio, used methods like –_

Someone bumps into his shoulder, and he stumbles a little.

“Oof-“

“My apologies.”

Prompto freezes. Ah, damnit.

“It-it’s fine.” 

“Oh! Prompto,” Ravus smiles. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Sure has,” Prompto looks around, at literally anything else. 

“I came back and you’d moved apartments,” Ravus says stepping into his field of view. “You didn’t even tell me.”  

Ravus looks…good. Normal. Totally fine. Like last year didn’t happen. Cool.

“Yeah, I know –“ Prompto steps out of line. “Ah, shit. I’m really – I gotta’-“

He looks around for something,  _anything –_

Ignis. Ignis is here, at one of the tables.  He’s with a few other students, and it looks like a study group – and Prompto’s brain goes into emergency mode.

“I have to go,” Prompto blurts, and turns tail.

“Prompto!”

There’s a whispered  _shhhh!_ but Prompto books it, and nearly skids into Ignis’s table. Ignis looks up, startled, and Prompto is panicking so bad he can’t even talk right.

All he gets out is: “Ignis-“

“Who’s this?” A girl asks.

Prompto owes the gods like fifty thank-you prayers for making Ignis so smart, because he reads the look on Prompto’s face, and immediately stands.

“Excuse me,” Ignis says.

“Wait-“ Ravus approaches, and Prompto feels so walled-in he might actually pass out.

He turns to Ignis and hisses,  _“Help me.”_

Ignis glances to Ravus, and then grips Prompto’s arm and pulls him towards the bookshelves. His grip is iron around his forearm; Prompto had no idea he was so strong. Ignis turns toward the end of the library, and yanks them past a door that says  _Employees Only._

Ignis presses him against the wall with his forearm, shuts the door, and listens. Nothing.

“Is this okay?” Prompto whispers, pointing to the sign. It looks like a storage room.

“An acquaintance works here,” Ignis says. He turns to Prompto. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Prompto rubs at his face. “Fuck. Thank you, I owe you so bad.”

“Who was that?”

Prompto stares, and doesn’t answer.

Ignis approaches him, fingers coming up to his face. He checks his head, and his shoulders. His fingers are warm and nimble and soft.

“You are okay?”

“Yes,” Prompto croaks. This close, Prompto can see just how green his eyes are. His glasses rest high on his nose, and his hair is slicked back today, and it’s all way too much information for his brain right now.

Ignis lets go, and Prompto lets out a breath.

“Alright then.”

Prompto slides to the floor, not realizing that his legs were shaking so bad.

“I’m uh. Going to just hang out here for a second.” Prompto waves his hand around. “You can go back to your friends – sorry.”

He waits a moment, and then sets his forehead on his knees. He thinks he might throw up, god.

The door doesn’t open. He hears the sound of a body sliding along the wall next to him, and then shoes as they click on the floor. Prompto peeks over, and Ignis is sitting next to him, legs outstretched, hands in his lap.

“I’m in no hurry,” Ignis says. Prompto feels another wave of nausea, and he moves his forehead back on his knees.

It’s silent. It smells like floor cleaner in here, and that’s probably not helping any. Prompto inhales, and tries to make the room stop spinning.

Ignis speaks – not gently, but softer than his usual tone.

“If he has done something to you –“

“It’s not a big deal.”

That was apparently the wrong answer, because Ignis looks murderous.

“I mean – it’s not. It’s nothing like that.” Prompto sniffs. “Please forget about it.”

“If you wish,” Ignis says.

He says nothing more, and when Prompto is feeling better, he helps him to his feet. True to his word, Ignis doesn’t bring it up again. Prompto can’t ignore the mortification that Ignis saw him like that.

Prompto avoids his eye at dinner, but Ignis acts no different.

“Eat more,” Ignis says, putting another roll on his plate. “It will serve your brain well for your test tomorrow.”

Prompto is flattered that Ignis remembered something like that, so he smiles at him, and Ignis smiles back.  

 

* * *

 

 Noctis didn’t sleep in their room last night, so Prompto isn’t surprised when he comes in for a change of clothes.

He switches quickly, slipping off sweats for shredded jeans and swapping out shirts. Prompto doesn’t look, because like, he’s not a pervert or anything – but Noctis really does have a nice chest. Just putting that out there.

Noctis slides on a beanie, “Whatcha’ doing?”

“Social science,” Prompto lifts the textbook.

“Dude, it’s Friday night.”

“And?”

“Alright, lameo. Do you want to go out?”

Prompto nearly chokes.

“What?”

“I’m going to the arcade, do you want to come?”

Oh. Prompto blinks, “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m going by myself anyways, so it doesn’t matter.”

“And you’re calling  _me_ a lameo?”

“At least I’m not doing homework.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve ever  _done_ homework,” Prompto jokes, but slides off the bed, and starts looking for pants. “I didn’t know there was an arcade nearby.”

“There isn’t really. It’s like, a twenty-minute drive.”

“Ah, okay. Are we taking the bus?”

“No.” Noctis stares. “I have a car.”

“You have a  _what?!”_

“Yeah man.”

“Uh, how come I’ve never heard of this.”

“Well there’s no use in trying to park if you can walk.”

“I guess that makes sense. But fuck you for making me carry my groceries.”

“Your noodle arms could use the workout.”

Noctis laughs as Prompto picks the pillow off his bed and hurls it his way.

He waits for Prompto to slip on his other boot, before grabbing his keys and shutting off the lights. They head towards the service elevator at the end of the hall.

“Are Gladio and Ignis gone?” Prompto asks.

“Mhmm, they’re out tonight.”

Noctis leads them to the garage, and stops them at the most gorgeous car Prompto has ever seen.

“This is  _not_ yours.”

“Get in,” Noctis says, and sure enough, the car unlocks. Prompto curses, and slides in the front seat.

“Fuck, it still smells like a new car.”

Noctis hits a button and – of course it’s a convertible.

“Who  _are_  you?” Prompto jokes. Noctis doesn’t answer. He just throws his arm over the back of the headrest, and backs out.

He’s a fast driver. Prompto is pretty sure they rolled through a couple of those stop signs, but whatever. He’s not one to talk.

The arcade is busy tonight. There’s families and adults alike; the games light up a rainbow of colors, and the whole place smells like weed and pizza. Ah, memories.

“I haven’t been to one of these in a while.”

“I like my classics,” Noctis says. He leads them towards the back, where there’s a bunch of forgotten retro games.

They get coins, and take turns beating each other’s score at pinball. Prompto kicks his ass at skeeball, but Noctis gets him back at Pacman.

“I’ve never even seen this level,” Prompto gapes.

“I used to hold a spot in the top ten, but then some scrub kicked me off the board,” Noctis sticks out his tongue in concentration, and Prompto’s chest squeezes so hard he physically flinches.

They play one of the two-person shooter games –  _that’s way too expensive – I’m paying who cares –_  and they’re both kind of terrible, but it makes it fun.

“There’s too many zombies!” Prompto cries. “Remember me as I was.”

“Noo!” Noctis almost laughs. “Prompto!”

Prompto’s side of the screen flashes GAME OVER, and he sets down his gun with a sigh.

“Wait,” Noctis fishes in his pockets. He pulls out another coin, and holds it up, “Alas. The breath of life.” He slips it in the machine, and Prompto’s character comes back.

Prompto cackles, “I’m back baby!” And then dies again. Noctis dies too, and now they’re  _really_ laughing, Prompto bent over and Noctis with his hand over his face.

Some kid crosses his arms and barks, “Come on! Move it!”

They manage to walk over and stand by the pinball machines. Prompto can’t stop laughing, he’s so giggly he has the hiccups.

“So much for the breath of life,” Prompto sniffles. Noctis snorts.

They have a few more coins left, so they spend the rest on pinball. Prompto is fiddling with the machine, Noctis leaning up against one side, and Prompto keeps missing the ball because Noctis is just so…pretty.

“Hey,” Noctis says. Prompto looks up, and misses the ball again.

“Hm?”

“I wanted to uh.” Noctis looks down at the machine, and taps his fingers against the glass. He looks back up. “I wanted to apologize.”

“Huh??”

“I acted like an asshole when we first met.” Noctis mumbles, “And you’re really cool. So I’m sorry.”

“Dude,” Prompto reaches over and slaps his arm, “Don’t even worry about it.”

Noctis half-smiles.

“Thanks.”

Prompto beams, and leans forward over the other side of the pinball machine.

“So you think I’m cool?”

Noctis rolls his eyes and turns away, walking towards the door.

“No! Hey! Gladio’s never gonna’ believe me. Just say it one more time –“

“No.”

“Maybe I’ll make a t-shirt.  _Noctis thinks I’m cool.”_

“Prompto, shut  _up._ ”

He laughs, jogs to catch up, and jabs Noctis with a grin.

“I think you’re cool too.”

Noctis looks away, and Prompto hums as they make the walk towards the car. He feels so bubbly, he could just bounce off and fly away.

He convinces Noctis to turn on the radio, and they jam out on the way back to the apartment. It’s not so bad, as far as Fridays go.

 

* * *

 

 Gladio needs to stop walking around the apartment shirtless, because it’s bad for Prompto’s blood pressure.

 Prompto can only pretend to be  _so_ straight. He eats his cereal and tries not to choke when Gladio stretches his arms above his head and yawns.

“Class today?”

“No,” Gladio scratches his jaw. “But it was a late night for Iggy. Be careful not to-“

The bedroom door swings open, and Gladio, god forbid,  _tenses._

Ignis looks nothing like the person Prompto has come to know. His hair isn’t styled at all, and there’s circles under his eyes, and the sweatpants he’s in don’t look like they fit him whatsoever; the waist is way too big, and they’re rolled up at the ankles. It’s nice to see him look like a human being for once. Ignis shuffles over towards the kitchen, and Gladio nearly jumps to turn on the coffee pot.

“Good morning Ignis!” Prompto smiles.

Gladio’s eyes go big, and he makes a  _cut it out_ sign with his hand behind Ignis’s back. Prompto tips his head in confusion. Ignis stops walking. Gladio cringes.

Ignis turns to Prompto, blinks a little sleepily, and then smiles.

“Good morning Prompto. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah! Did you?”

“Not quite. I have a large essay due today. But I shall be fine afterwards.” He moves around Gladio, and starts digging through the pantry for the coffee grinds. Gladio’s jaw is on the floor. Gladio seems to be in the way of the coffee pot; Ignis looks up, and Prompto can’t see his face from here, but Gladio fucking runs. Prompto has learned not to question everything around here.

Prompto scratches at his chest, pulling up his shirt a little as he yawns.

“I bet it turned out great. I’d wish you good luck, but I’m sure you don’t need it.”

Ignis looks over at him, and blinks a couple more times. He tips his head and nods softly.

“Thank you dear.”

Prompto flushes a little, and slides down in the chair.

Gladio comes back out, this time wearing a shirt (thank the gods). Ignis pours himself coffee, and Gladio walks back to the kitchen. Prompto catches the hand Gladio presses to Ignis’s waist as he passes behind him, and Prompto feels a physical jerk in his stomach. Gladio bends over to pull open the fridge, and Ignis sips his coffee with his sleeve-paws, and Prompto loses interest in his cereal.

“Was Noctis in your room last night?” Ignis asks.

“Yeah.  He set like six alarms to get up today but he’s still sleeping.”

Gladio rolls his eyes, and shoves a wad of bread in his mouth. He mumbles, “I’ll get ‘em.”

“Good luck,” Prompto says. Gladio waves him off, and enters their bedroom.

“A bit of a cat, he is,” Ignis says.

“I figured he wasn’t a morning guy.”

Ignis snorts.

“Quite an understatement.”

Prompto looks back down the hall, curious at how Gladio is going to go about this. There’s some mumbled talking, and then the lights flick on.

Gladio comes back out with Noctis in his arms. Noctis is sleepily whining, hands covering his eyes, and Prompto has to swallow around all the drool in his mouth. Gladio makes it look so effortless.

_Fuck. Me._

“Eyes open,” Gladio says, and sets Noctis on his feet. Noctis paws him away, and scrubs at his face.

“Mornin’ there buddy,” Prompto grins.

Ignis, now awake, pats Noctis’s shoulder on the way to his room. Noctis sways a little, and Gladio pushes him towards the kitchen. He’s so cute, Prompto bites his lip so he won’t say it out loud.

Noctis is mumbling something along the lines of  _“-who needs math? Not me. Never gonna’ need math. Math can suck my –“_

Prompto giggles, and then stops when Noctis turn his way. He takes one look at Prompto, swallows, and then rolls his eyes.

“Of course you’re a morning person.”

Prompto shrugs.

“It’s genetic.”

“Shut up.”

 

* * *

 

 He has a study group for art history, and spends a few late days in labs so he can finish these stupid sculpting assignments with real supplies. Prompto is definitely not spending any more money on this class than he needs to.

When the weekend rolls around, he sleeps in way late. Like, even Noctis gets up before him.

He spends the morning on his phone, ignoring absolutely all of his problems. He starts to get hungry by eleven, (curse Ignis for putting him on a normal eating schedule), so he slinks out of bed like a gremlin, and opens the door.

Well, of all the things to see today, this wasn’t on the list. Prompto stumbles back, and grips the doorway.

Gladio is sitting at the dining table, shirtless, straddling a chair backwards while Ignis paints his face pink, purple, and blue. Prompto wouldn’t know what to make of that, if it wasn’t for the fact that Ignis was in a pressed suit and heels, with a rainbow bowtie. Noctis just straight up has the gay flag tied around his neck like a cape.

Prompto’s mouth falls open. They all pause, and look his way.

“Hey,” Noctis says, popping his gum.

Prompto blinks.

“We’re going to pride,” Gladio says. His voice is tight and guarded. Like he’s prepared to fight. They all look tense. 

“Oh,” Prompto breathes.

Ignis dips his brush in more facepaint, and doesn’t quite meet his eye as he asks, “Would you like to come?”

 _“Yes!”_ Prompto shouts, way too fast. They stare, and Prompto coughs, “I mean. I’m not- I’d have to get ready.”

The tension bleeds out of the room.

“We’ll wait,” Noctis smiles. Prompto nods shakily, and nearly trips trying to get to his closet. When he’s out of sight he presses a hand to his heart and breathes. The relief is so heavy, he could cry.

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever bring it up to them, you know? But now –

Prompto digs through his closet. He had his outfit picked out already, but he wasn’t going to go  _alone._

Pink shorts, yellow thigh highs, blue croptop – it’s pretty much the only colored shit he owns. Prompto would do his makeup, but he doesn’t want to make them wait. He digs for his flag under his bed, and scurries out the door.

“I’m ready!”

They look as relieved as Prompto feels. Gladio laughs, and slaps Noctis’s arm, “Pan! I told you! Five bucks dude.” Noctis rubs his sore arm and pouts.

“You knew?!” 

“I’m just that good,” Gladio says, and grins as Noctis slams money in his outstretched hand.

“Come now,” Ignis takes the car keys. “We don’t want to miss the parade.”

“Fuck, I can finally say whatever I want,” Noctis says. “Prom, you look  _cute._ ”

 “Agreed,” Gladio says, playfully jostling him in the elevator.

Prompto grins, and rocks back on his heels. “Thanks!”

 He’s still trying to process the fact that Gladio is bi. He’s actually still trying to process all of this.

Ignis is almost as tall as Gladio in those heels. He shows no discomfort, walking like normal as soon as the doors open to the garage.

“Damn Iggy, I’d break my ankle,” Prompto says. He bites his lip, not sure if he’s actually allowed to use that nickname yet, but Ignis smirks at him.

“I used to steal my mother’s shoes.”

“No!”

“Yes,” Ignis clicks the keys, and the car lights turn on. “She knew I was gay before I did.  _Ignis, the clops,_ she said.”

Gladio and Noctis crawl in the backseat, so Prompto takes shotgun.

“I wish I had told my parents,” Prompto says. Ignis gives him a sad look, and reaches over to squeeze his hand, before turning the key and starting the car. Prompto can’t stop looking at his profile.

“Let’s get some jams,” Noctis calls. Ignis drops the roof, and Prompto cranks up the music.

He’s so happy, his face hurts from smiling. He’s never been to pride before, let alone had friends to go with _._

Ignis is a way better driver that Noctis; they find parking relatively close to the parade, and have just enough time to squeeze close to the crowd. The music is loud and there’s so many half-naked people Prompto can’t even count, but everyone’s laughing and smiling and something unwinds in his heart.

Drag queens, cars, floats and performers walk down the street. Noctis is jamming out to the music, and Prompto thinks he’d be a fun guy to go to concerts with.

Prompto can’t quite see over everyone’s heads. He stands on his toes to try and see the float, but all he can see are rainbow flowers and sparklers. He jumps a little, and spots a few drag queens. They do – something. People start to scream.

Gladio leans down and speaks above the music, “Hold on.”

“What?”

Hands grab at his waist, and Prompto squawks as he’s lifted off the ground. He flails a little, but Gladio sets him up on his shoulders, and grips into his thighs.

“I gotcha’,” he says. Prompto wavers a little, and sticks his hands on Gladio’s head for balance. His heart is hammering in his throat and his palms are sweating – but woah. He can see  _everything_ now.

Gladio has him steady, so Prompto holds up his flag and beams.

“Woohoo!”

Ignis looks over to them, and his smile reaches his eyes.

“Drinks, anyone?”

“Me me me,” Noctis says.

Ignis disappears in the crowd, and Prompto waves his flag around. Gladio’s hands are so big, they almost swallow up his thighs completely – and Prompto will definitely have to think about that at a future time, but not  _now._

Ignis provides margaritas out of thin air. He passes one up to Prompto, and Gladio shifts Prompto’s weight a little, so he can steady him one-handed.

Noctis is more animated than Prompto has ever seen. He looks like he’s having fun, drink in hand, cheering and flapping his cape.

If he wasn’t already looking, Prompto would have missed it; for Ignis reaches for Noct’s hand, and Noctis takes it. They hold hands for the rest of the parade, and Prompto can’t stop staring.

He’s not sure if he’s missed something. Or maybe he’s looking too far into it. But they’re very pretty side by side, and it makes Prompto feel super weird.

Someone shoots off fireworks, and Prompto is easily distracted. He waves his flag and cheers, and later, when they’re not holding hands anymore,  Prompto almost feels sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rock the casbah, rock the casbah


	3. Chapter 3

 

It's nice being able to wear the other half of his closet again. 

Prompto has more pajama shorts than he does fingers and toes, and like, fuck, eyelashes? Ears. Nose. He has alot, and they were all crammed in the bucket under his bed, and now they can live free. 

Their apartment has developed a heavily enforced No Jeans Allowed rule, which Prompto might have been the co-founder of. 

There's nothing more comfy than bootyshorts and a giant shirt, so Prompto tucks his legs under his butt and leans up to dig a spoonful of ice cream out of the tub. 

"Come  _on_ Jessica. Quit flirting with the guys and get your head back in the game." 

"Her photos are consistently bad," Noctis says, sucking on the spoon. "It's a miracle Tyra hasn't given her the boot already." 

"She had  _one_ good week and now Tyra believes in her," Prompto sighs. Crying comes from the T.V., and Prompto shouts,  _"God Jessica!"_

Noctis claps between words, spoon still in his mouth, "Geft! It! Tothether!" 

The apartment door opens. Ignis steps through, and there's a rigidness to his shoulders that Prompto has come to read as extreme stress. 

Prompto learned quickly that he had the misfortune of first meeting Ignis on a bad day. Ignis doesn't have much of those, but he's only human, and college is a lifesucking force that bleeds you dry of all your hopes and dreams. Noctis wordlessly pats the space between them on the couch, and Ignis quietly opens a kitchen drawer, and grabs a spoon. 

"They're just about to reveal the pictures," Prompto says, scooting over. Ignis sits between them, and takes a spoonful right out of the tub, which means it was a  _really_ bad day. 

"Nuh huh-" Noctis points. "Pants." 

Ignis unbuckles his belt, and shoves down his jeans with one hand. Prompto bites his tongue so hard his eyes sting. Six a-fuckin' bove, Prompto counts from ten backwards, and tugs on the hem of his shorts.  Ignis lifts his hips lazily, kicks off his jeans, and pulls a blanket over his lap. The fact that he didn't even fold his pants — 

"That bad, huh?" 

Ignis sighs. 

"I could not understand the concept of murder, until I was introduced to team projects." He digs another spoon in the ice cream with way too much spite, "Now, I am enlightened." 

Noctis laughs, and Prompto gently pats his shoulder. 

_"Jessica...you are......safe."_

"NOO!!!" 

"God damnit! Go home Jessica!" 

Ignis isn't paying much attention to the trash T.V., and halfway through the next episode he falls asleep on Noctis's shoulder.

 Noctis gently removes his glasses and folds them on the side table, and Prompto wishes he could take a picture and hide it forever. Iggy’s eyelashes are long and his hair is tousled, and Noctis has an arm around his shoulders in the softest way.

A part of him hopes, and a part of him doesn't. 

 

* * *

 

Prompto refuses to have any more crushes for the rest of his life, but he might make an exception for Gladio. 

He's just...big. And sexy. And nice.

Prompto thinks about how easily Gladio picked him up at pride, and it makes him physically boil from the inside out. He's never seen Gladio bring home a girl (or a guy!) so there's a teeny, tiny, itty bitty part of him that might want to take a chance.

But then Ignis walks in with his hair slicked back and an apron at his waist, and he rolls up his sleeves and says  _good afternoon darling,_ and Prompto has to take a moment to scream on another plane of existence. 

And  _then,_ he goes in his room and Noctis is on his bed, half dressed from a shower, bouncing over to Prompto to show him something on his phone — and he's changed, fuck has he changed — he looks at Prompto with these big sparkly eyes and he laughs more and touches more and —

Well. Prompto couldn't make up his mind if he wanted to. Which is fine, because the gods make up his mind for him. 

He’s like, seventy percent sure Ignis and Noctis have something going on between them. Prompto won’t assume, but he knows homoerotic subtext when he sees it.

Which is exactly why he’s so stunned when he opens his bedroom door, and sees Ignis backed up against the kitchen counter, trapped in by Gladio’s arms, a smile on his face as Gladio leans down to kiss him.

Nobody was around when Prompto got home, so he’d just assumed they were all in class. Prompto had made a B-line for the shower, and hadn’t heard much noise until now.

Prompto blinks, rapidly. Well, that wasn’t what he was expecting, but okay.

The most surprising part is Noctis, who’s sitting at the bar eating Cheetos with chopsticks.

“Oh shit,” Gladio whispers, and jerks away. Ignis looks stunned, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand.

“Apologies,” Ignis says. “I – we – we didn’t think you were home.”

Prompto blinks. He turns to Noctis.

“Are you eating Cheetos with chopsticks?”

“It keeps my hands clean,” Noctis says.

Ignis is looking at him with disbelief. Gladio looks a little guilty.

Prompto waves his hand around, “Hey, you guys can do whatever you want. I won’t judge.” It’s unexpected, but not…disappointing. They’re like hot plus hot equals even more hot.

Ignis and Gladio simultaneously look to Noctis. Noctis rolls his eyes, and shoves another Cheeto in his mouth.

“Just fuckin’ tell him already,” Noctis huffs. “He’s cool.”

“Very well,” Ignis says. He leans a hip against the counter and pushes up his classes. “We are dating.”

“I think I got that,” Prompto says, making his way towards the couch.

“The three of us.”

Prompto trips. His hand slaps against the coffee table, and he nearly breaks his nose on the edge of the couch.

“Six! Prompto-“

“You’re what?” Prompto holds his nose, popping up off the floor.

Gladio can apparently teleport, because he has a hand at his shoulder, helping him off the ground.

“Are you okay??”

“Fine, fine –“

Gladio helps set Prompto on the couch, and Ignis appears at his side. He gently tips Prompto’s chin, “Let me see.”

“I’m fine I’m good I’m cool.” Prompto jerks away. “Can you run that by me one more time?”

Noctis looks at him like he’s stupid.

“We.” He gestures, in a triangle, “Are dating.”

“It looks broken,” Gladio says.

“It’s not broken!”

Ignis presses his thumbs into his high cheekbones, and Prompto flinches only a little. Ignis nods.

“Not broken, but it will bruise.”

Prompto ignores them.

“You’re poly? How long have you guys-“ Prompto flops his hand like a fish. They look to each other.

“Since highschool?”

“Something like that.”

“Wow,” Prompto blinks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well it’s not exactly normal,” Noctis huffs.

“We didn’t want you to, oh I dunno’, trip and break your nose,” Gladio snorts.  

“I didn’t break it,” Prompto snaps. “And it wouldn’t have been so surprising if you had just told me.”

“It is something we guard carefully,” Ignis says. He sweeps Prompto’s bangs gently out of his face, and steps back. Gladio’s arm falls around Iggy’s waist, and it’s so natural Prompto isn’t sure if this is the first time he’s seeing it. Ignis adds, “And we also wished to be your friend without you thinking yourself as some silly  _fourth wheel_.”

“Yeah. So don’t act weird,” Noctis sniffs.

“We’re friends?” Prompto blurts. It goes silent.

“Well duh,” Gladio mumbles, and flops alongside him on the couch.

“A bit late to take it back,” Ignis teases.

“You’re thick,” Noctis says. Prompto grins.

“Perhaps.”

Gladio reaches for the remote and clicks it on, and Ignis retreats back to the kitchen, and Noctis is trying to reach the crumbs at the bottom of the bag, and it all kinda’ falls back to normal.

Prompto should feel some kind of crushing realization that in fact, none of these people are available, and Prompto’s little almost-crisis was embarrassingly for naught – but it’s not like Prompto stood a chance anyways.

Besides, they’re friends now. They’re  _nice._

“Prompto, will you eat zucchini?”

“If it’s baked,” Prompto answers. Noctis gags.

“One green a day, you shook on it,” Ignis says.

Noctis rolls his eyes, and sticks out his tongue when Ignis turns his back, and Prompto laughs behind his hand.

Gladio is a warm presence at his side, arm slung over the back of the couch; he lets Prompto choose a movie to watch, and they end up eating dinner around the coffee table.

 

* * *

 

Prompto yawns, and smooshes his face in his hand. The room is dark for the projector screen, and it’s seriously putting him to sleep.

His notes have turned into mostly scribbles, and he eventually nods off – only coming to when he’s elbowed by the girl next to him.

“He’s collectin’ homework,” she says.

“Oh shit,” Prompto digs into his bag, and grabs it just in time for the professor to walk by. He hands it off, really hoping he remembered to put his name on it. He turns to the girl and sighs, “Thanks. I owe you.”

She’s really pretty – blonde hair, tight shirt, cute accent.

“No problem! It’s a real shame when the homework is fifty percent of yer grade.”

“Tell me about it,” Prompto scrubs at his eyes. He blinks himself awake and sticks out a hand. “I’m Prompto.”

“Cindy!” She beams. “I think I saw you at pride.”

“Oh,” Prompto flushes.

“Yeah! You was on your boyfriends shoulders, weren’t ya?”

“No! I mean –  _yes,_ but – he’s, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my uh, roommate.”

“Oh! Well he seems mighty nice.” The professor returns to the front of the classroom, and Cindy lowers her voice, “I didn’t study for the test today.”

“Me neither,” Prompto raises his fist, and Cindy bumps him. “See you on the other side, sis.”

Cindy laughs, and covers her mouth before the professor sees.

They exchange numbers afterwards, and Cindy walks with him down to the elevator.

“Let’s get coffee one day!” She says.

“Please, I need a study buddy or I’m actually going to flunk this class,” Prompto says.

“I’m not even gonna’ bother checkin’ my grade,” Cindy sighs.

“I’m just glad I’m not the only one.”

They wave goodbye, and Prompto feels a little lighter on his feet.

 

* * *

 

The first time Prompto sees Noctis kiss Ignis goodbye, he nearly has a stroke. Then it all comes rushing back — the Cheetos and the movie and the black eye that still won’t go away.

“Don’t skip class,” Ignis says. “I will know it if you do.”

“It’s just English,” Noctis mutters.

Ignis grabs him by the chin and tips his head upwards. He stares down at Noctis, and presses a long, heavy kiss to his mouth. Prompo is downright  _floored_ at how Noctis melts in his arms. He goes all soft around the edges, hands curling up in the back of Ignis’s shirt.

Ignis pulls away, and presses a kiss to one cheek, then the other.

“I will see you at seven.”

“Okay,” Noctis mumbles. He doesn’t quite let go, and Ignis kisses him one last time before waving goodbye to Prompto, and stepping out the door.

It is at that moment that Prompto becomes extremely aware of all the nights Noctis spent in the other room. It’s a bit of a no-brainer, but the thought alone makes him hot to his toes.

_Oh my god what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall._

Noctis makes noise in the kitchen, and Prompto shakes himself awake.

_Focus! Dumbshit!_

“Test today?” Noctis asks.

“At noon,” Prompto says, but it comes out all croaky, so he clears his throat and repeats. “At noon.”

Noctis hums, and takes a swig out of the milk carton, and Prompto realizes that the shirt he’s in is definitely way too big to be his. Fuck.

Ignis, Gladio and Noctis fall into a routine like it’s normal, and Prompto almost feels bad – like they changed their life so drastically just so Prompto wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, and now they’re finally as they were.

It doesn’t make him uncomfortable. It’s actually the opposite, and Prompto would rather die than admit that out loud.

 He busies himself in school, hoping for a distraction from this weird icky feeling in his stomach, but he’s pulled back again and again. Hands on shoulders, bumping elbows, mere glimpses of the kisses they share behind that closed bedroom door — Prompto sees it all, and keeps his mouth shut.

 

* * *

 

Prompto’s ass is glued to this kitchen chair, and that’s not even a joke. He’s been reading this textbook for so long his headache has a headache.

There’s the familiar sound of the lock throwing, before Gladio comes through. His bag is slung over his shoulder, and he consistently pulls off that douchey gym-bro aesthetic while making it the hottest thing Prompto has ever seen with his own two eyes.

“Hey Prom,” he says. He takes off his snapback and slips it on Prompto’s head as he passes by. “What’s up.”

“Homework, man.” Prompto slides the bill of the hat around, and looks at the brand before putting it back on. “Nice hat sweat.”  

Gladio ignores him, “Are you coming tonight?”

“Coming where?”

Gladio scoffs, “They didn’t tell you? And I’m the asshole…”

“What?”

“We’re going to go jump the campus pool fence and drink beer before it gets too cold.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Which part?”

“Alright,” Prompto rolls his eyes. “And how’d you convince Ignis?”

“It was Iggy’s idea,” Gladio says. Prompto stares, and he raises his hands. “Hey, if you want Chlamydia from swimming in the apartment pool then by all means.”

Prompto squints, “This sounds like a date.”

“Not really. You’re invited dude.”

“I don’t want to be a –“

“Shut the fuck up,” Gladio calls, distantly from his bedroom. “Now I’m making you go. Get dressed.”

Prompto is hesitant, but Gladio is the one person actually capable of carrying him all the way across campus, so Prompto puts on swim trunks under his jeans, and shoves some spare clothes in a bag.

He checks the time before they leave; “Six, it’s almost midnight.”

Gladio ushers him out the door, “Well you won’t have much luck sneakin’ past security in broad daylight.”

“Okay smartass, I get it,” Prompto jokes. Gladio laughs, and shoves his hands in his hoodie. Prompto hasn’t given him his hat back yet, and his hair is all wily and curled at the ends. Ignis sat on the kitchen table and shaved his sides yesterday, so Gladio’s undercut is shorter than usual. Prompto really wants to touch it.

They stop by the campus convenience store on the way, and Gladio buys a six pack. They meet Ignis and Noctis by the fence.

“Hey baby,” Gladio greets, and leans down when Noct’s hands reach upwards. Noctis kisses him,

“Hey.”

Ignis leans around to look at the beer. He hums.

“Corona. I guess there’s worse.”

“No wine today,” Gladio teases, and pecks Ignis hello.

“Hey Prom,” Noctis swats his arm.

“Hiya!”

“Did you bring your shorts?”

Prompto slides down the waistband of his jeans, and wiggles his eyebrows. 

“I came prepared.”

“Ooh, striptease!”

“Come now,” Ignis hooks a foot in the fence, and heaves himself up and over with an astonishing amount of grace. “The next guard shift starts at three.”

Noctis is next to hop over; he's nimble, using his arms to swing his body weight over the top.  Gladio looks to Prompto and smiles,

"Need a hand?"

"Oh, this is not my first fence," Prompto purrs. He hops it without looking like an ass, and Noctis gives him an impressed look. Gladio passes the beer over, before climbing the fence himself.

The pool lights are on, and they’re all shimmery and white. It’s a lap pool for the swim team, and it’s definitely  _way_ cleaner than the one at the apartment.

“Alright!” Noctis throws off his shirt and his jeans, and cannonballs in. He flips back up out of the water, hair all in his face, and its friggin’ adorable. “Come on Prompto!”

He quickly undresses, and jumps in before anyone can catch too much of an eyeful. Noctis splashes him when he surfaces, and Prompto splashes him back.

Gladio has his priorities straight, because he bites the top of the beer cap and snaps it open, before shucking off his clothes and stepping in. Ignis isn’t far behind; he has a beer as well, and Prompto nearly does a double take, because Ignis is  _way_ more built than Prompto was expecting. He has broad shoulders, and there’s muscle in those mile-long legs of his.

Ignis sighs a little as he sinks in. The water is cold, but it feels good; Prompto dunks himself under again.

“Alright, we’re here now,” Noctis says. “Four assholes in a pool.”

“It’s called relaxation,” Ignis says, leaning back against the step. “You ought to try it.”

“I’m going to do laps,” Gladio says.

“That’s the opposite of what I just said.”

Gladio passes his drink to Noctis, and takes off. Ignis sighs.

Prompto gets the vibe Ignis is going for. There’s this abandoned feeling to the pool; their voices echo off the pavement, and you can almost see the stars up above. Prompto floats on his back, and tries to find the moon among the clouds.

Noctis has levitated back towards Ignis. They’re not quite cuddling, but Noctis is braced at his side, fiddling with the label on the beer, and Ignis keeps an arm around him.

“We have a mid-break soon,” Ignis says, over the sound of Gladio’s splashing. “Are you going home, Prompto?”

“Nah,” Prompto says. “It’s not worth the flight.”

“How far is it?”

“Like three hours.”

“Oh,” Noctis says. “So you’re not from here.”

“Not from Insomnia, anyways,” Prompto shrugs, and swirls his hands around in the pool. “It’s fine. I don’t wanna’ bother my aunt.”

Ignis is absently fiddling with Noct's ear, tracing the shell with his thumb, and Prompto almost misses his question. 

"Did you always live with your aunt?" 

"Since I was ten." 

"What happened to your parents?" Noctis asks. Ignis yanks on his ear, and Noctis yelps,  _"Ow!"_

"No, it's fine," Prompto laughs. "My parents died when I was like, super young." 

"Our condolences." 

"Thanks, but it was a long time ago. Are you guys leaving for break?" 

"I have to," Noctis rolls his eyes. 

Prompto frowns, "And you're not excited about that?" 

"No." 

"Gladio and I will be staying," Ignis says. "Perhaps we ought to do something fun." 

"Ooh! I'm down!" 

"Without me," Noctis huffs. 

"I'll facetime you!" Prompto beams. "It'll be like you never left."

Noctis wades towards him in the water,  and slings an arm over his shoulders. He jostles him, and Prompto is surprised at the strength he has. 

"Hey, you wanna' race?" 

"I will," Gladio says — and Prompto hadn't even noticed that he stopped swimming laps. 

"I'm in," Ignis says. Noctis looks to him expectantly. Prompto snorts, 

"It’s on." 

They line up at one end of the pool, and Noctis double checks to make sure nobody's cheating, before he calls go. Prompto is proud to come in second after Ignis, with Gladio behind him and Noctis dead last. 

"It was a tie!" Noctis shouts.

"It was a landslide," Gladio teases, and picks him up out of the water. Noctis koalas around him, arms around his neck, legs hooked at his back, and Gladio kisses him beneath his jaw. 

Prompto sinks down in the water. 

It quiets down as the night goes on. Prompto cracks a beer and balances on the edge of the pool; Noctis, Ignis and Gladio are hovered together, talking quietly, and Prompto is too tired to worry about staring. 

He looks at his feet, distorted beneath the pool water. His skin smells like chlorine, and he shivers as he dries, but the laughter from the other side of the pool warms him, and he doesn't know what that means. 

A towel is thrown over his shoulders. Prompto looks up, 

"Come on." Ignis extends a hand. "Best to shower before we look like prunes." Prompto takes his hand, and Ignis pulls him to his feet. 

Noctis calls quickly, "Dibs on first shower!" 

"Dude no fair!" Prompto cries. 

"Would you like to go first?" Ignis turns to Gladio. 

Gladio grins, and holds his waist. 

"I can share." 

Ohh, that's a mental image that Prompto did not need at this point in time. Iggy's face doesn't change; he merely throws an arm back around Gladio, and pats his butt once. 

Noctis looks to Prompto and grins, "Hey, maybe we should share too." 

Prompto flushes red down to his feet, and Noctis runs off laughing, dodging the punches that Prompto throws his way. 

 

* * *

 

"Alright sluts!" Prompto kicks open the door, and it slams back against the wall. “I got jet fuel." 

Noctis makes a long, high-pitched porno-style moan, and reaches out his hand. Prompto hands him his coffee and Gladio helps Prompto before he drops the other three drinks. 

 "One-" Prompto reads the label "-Venti black. Iggy?" 

"Thank you dear.” Ignis takes it, and turns back to his textbook. 

"Yeah, thanks Prom," Gladio grins, holding up his drink. 

Their living room looks the aftermath of a library war. Books and pencils and way too many pink highlighters scattered in every possible crevice; none of them have shaved, and it's the telltale sign of midterms. Prompto collapses back in the couch amongst his own paper-pile, and sighs. He looks over to the kitchen table. 

"Iggy, do you really drink that black?" 

"Yes." 

"I'm eighty-percent sure it's just motor oil.”

"Then so be it," Ignis says, and takes a swig. 

"I can’t read any more," Noctis says. “I’d rather die.”

His knees are drawn up to his chest, and he's in one of the little blue headbands that keep the bangs out of his face. Noctis bought it when Prompto pointed out a blue and yellow matching set, and now he's not even sure if it was a joke or not. Prompto has his yellow one on as well. 

"I have no sympathy for you dude," Gladio says. "That's what you get for skipping class." 

"It's just  _English._ I didn't know there was all this other shit in here!" 

"Hindsight, my love," Ignis says. 

"Twenty-twenty fuck  _you._ " 

A hand grabs his leg, and Prompto looks over to Gladio as he squeezes. 

"How're you holdin' up?" 

Prompto sighs, and flops against Gladio's side. Just — for a moment. Gladio is in a tank top, so Prompto can feel the heat of his skin, and he smells super good. 

"Three tests left. I've never wanted a C so bad in my life." 

Gladio pats his leg, "It gets worse." 

"Oh, I'm aware." 

Noctis lets out a long sigh, and slinks off the chair and onto the ground. He takes his coffee with him, and lays face down on the carpet. Ignis doesn't even blink. It's become more and more obvious that they weren't lying about the  _friends since childhood_ thing. 

Prompto slides off the couch, and joins him on the floor, face up and arms spread outwards. 

"Solidarity," Noctis muffles. "I respect only you." 

"Noct, really. Your test is tomorrow." 

"Shut up Specs," Noctis snaps. "We're the floor people now." 

"I think my back just popped," Prompto says. 

"Do you want me to crack it for you?" Gladio asks. 

Prompto sits up rapid fast. 

"You can do that?!" 

"Sure. Stand up." 

Prompto hops to his feet, and Gladio twirls his finger. Prompto turns around, and Gladio shifts behind him. 

"Cross your arms," he purrs. Prompto inherently shivers. 

Ignis looks up from his textbook, now interested. 

Prompto crosses his arms.

 "Okay. But what does this have to do with- _ooaaaaAAAAHH-_ " 

Gladio grabs him from behind, hands at his elbows, and he pulls Prompto off his feet. His back makes the loudest sound he's ever heard. 

"Fucking Six, was that popcorn?" Noctis sits up. 

Prompto is only capable of making sounds. 

"Ah, ah, oh, ahh-" he whines, and stands up straight. "OoohhhHOOOO-" 

Gladio is busting a fuckin' gut. Bent over, cackling, the whole deal. 

Ignis sounds concerned, "Are you in pain?" 

"No," Prompto pants, waiting for the tingling to stop. "I think my soul just left my body." 

"Have you ever seen a chiropractor?" 

"A chiro- _what?"_

"Well that answers that." 

"Do me, do me," Noctis says, standing now.

"Cm'ere babe." 

Noctis crosses his arms and turns around, and Prompto doesn't miss the way Gladio grinds playfully against his butt, before lifting Noctis off his feet and popping his back. It audibly cracks, and Gladio sets him back on the ground. Noctis doesn't make a sound, but his jaw is dropped, and he looks like he's in shock. 

"Holy  _shit-"_

Ignis sips his coffee, and gives Noctis a flat look.

"It's all the slouching." 

"I think I just came," Noctis says. 

 Prompto laughs so hard his nose starts running. They don't really get much more studying done, even if they do honestly try. The stress kinda' sucks, but Prompto finds himself having fun anyways. 

 

* * *

 

 Midterms pass, and Noctis leaves for the extra long weekend. Prompto honestly doesn't know what to do with himself, so he sleeps in extra late, and spends some time messing with his camera. He has a few pictures he wants to upload — but by the afternoon he's bored already. 

Prompto's phone buzzes on his side table. There's a few missed snapchats from Cindy, and a new text from Gladio. 

 

_> You awake?? _

 

Prompto texts back: 

 

_Yahhh < _

 

 

>  _Come in our room._

 

Prompto stands at their bedroom door, and realizes that he's never even been in here before. He goes to knock, but Gladio said to come in? So Prompto turns the handle. 

There's not a lot of decorations, but it's obvious who sleeps where. Gladio's side has a few record albums pinned on the wall, along with a shelf jam-packed with books; there's a family picture at the bedside table, and there's gym clothes thrown on the floor. Ignis has a calendar with detailed notes and scribbles pinned in the margins. There's a single potted plant in the window. It's homey. 

"Hey," Gladio grunts. Prompto realizes that there is indeed a person in one of those beds — wait, no. Two persons. 

Ignis is on his stomach, face buried in Gladio's shoulder, and Prompto can see his bare back. Gladio looks wide awake, scrolling through his phone over Ignis's head. 

"Uh, hi." 

"You can sit on my bed," Gladio points. "We're going to order food but we didn't know what you wanted." 

"No five-star meals today?" Prompto teases. 

"I will cook tonight," Ignis says. "Currently too tired to move." 

Prompto laughs, and hops up on Gladio's bed. He has a brown comforter, which feels fitting. 

"What were you guys thinking?" 

"I want noodles." 

"No more noodles," Ignis mumbles. 

Prompto hums, "What about sandwiches?" 

"Nah." 

"Curry?" 

Ignis perks up. He turns Prompto's way, and Prompto can finally see his face. 

"I wouldn't mind a nice Tandori chicken." 

"Indian it is," Gladio says, and types something in his phone one-handed. 

"Noct is gonna' be jealous." 

"I'll send him lots of pictures."

Prompto laughs, and folds his legs under himself. Gladio and Ignis are so wrapped together, Prompto has no idea how they're ever gonna' get up, but it's really cute. He's happy they're so comfortable around him.

"How much do I owe you?" Prompto asks. 

"Nothin'," Gladio says. "Hey, you wanna' set my laptop up on the dresser? We can watch a movie." 

They're perfectly capable of walking the four feet over to the living room, but Ignis looks so comfortable he would start purring if he could, so Prompto smiles. 

"Sure. What're we feelin' lads?" 

"I say, have you seen Beaches?" Ignis asks. 

"Er, no." 

Ignis turns and scoffs. 

"My dear, that is a gay right of passage. It should be still downloaded, check the movie folder on his desktop." 

Prompto finds it easily, and snorts when it's the first thing that pops up. 

"A gay right of passage, huh?" 

He flops back on Gladio's bed, and props his pillow up against the wall. 

Gladio grins, "Oh, you are going to cry like a baby." 

"Yeah right," Prompto rolls his eyes. "I never cry in movies." 

Two hours later, Prompto is sobbing horrifically into his curry. Gladio laughs at him, and Ignis leans over the distance between the beds to hand him a box of tissues. 

 

* * *

 

Noctis is a downright wicked witch of the fuckin' west when he returns. If you squint hard enough, you can see the stormcloud over his head. 

"Hey Noct!" Prompto beams. "How was break?" 

Noctis doesn't even reply. He makes a straight line for the other bedroom, and slams the door shut. Prompto shouldn't take it personally, but he still feels like he just got backhanded across the face. 

He'd really hoped that they were past this. But if going home is as bad as it seems, then Prompto doesn't want to make it any worse. School resumes on that Monday, and Noctis makes zero effort to speak to him, so Prompto steers out of his way. 

It feels a little gloomy in the apartment. Gladio spends more time in the gym, and Ignis keeps to the room, along with Noctis. 

Prompto tries to work on his sketching homework, but nothing turns out quite right. He sighs, and almost misses the days they were holed up in the living room, cramming for exams. At least he wasn't lonely. 

His phone buzzes; 

CINDY :)

_> Hey! Coffee? _

Prompto smiles. It's six at night, and he really shouldn't, but he kinda' needs to get out of here or he might go insane. He passes Noctis in the living room; he's curled up on the couch, and he gives Prompto a cold glance, before turning back to the T.V. 

Prompto locks the door behind him, and tries to shake off the mood he's in. Cindy is always so nice and chipper, he doesn't want to seem like a drag. Still, she reads the look on his face as soon as they meet. 

"What's got you in a stump, darlin?" 

"Ugh, nothing bad," Prompto says, moving up in the coffee line. "Just people. Sometimes I just don't get 'em, you know?" 

"Oh, tell me about it. My bud got a new man, and she's like a totally different gal." Cindy sighs, "Such a shame." 

"Is he a good guy?" 

"No! He's gross!" 

"Girl, leave him.”

"That's what I'm sayin'!" 

They take their usual seat by the window. It's weird to meet here and  _not_ study, but the weather is cloudy, and it's fitting, he supposes. 

"Really, what's got you?" Cindy asks gently. 

Prompto sighs. 

"My roommates. They're-" he hesitates. 

Cindy blinks,  “I won't tell no one, promise." 

"Well." Prompto scratches his hair. "They're together. All of them." 

"Okay."

"Which is fine! But like — I dunno'. Sometimes I feel..." 

"Like a third wheel?" She laughs, "Fourth wheel?" 

"No,” Prompto sighs. "And that's a whole other problem. But one of them...he..." Prompto rubs a hand down his face. "Sometimes I think we're friends, and then sometimes I'm pretty sure he hates me." 

"I don't think anyone can hate you, sugar." 

"You'd be surprised!" 

Cindy sighs, and offers him a bite of her donut, and Prompto takes it gratefully.

“I’m sure he’ll come round.”

“Thanks,” Prompto swallows. “So, tell me about your girlfriend.”

Cindy perks up. 

 

* * *

 

 Prompto isn't a light sleeper, but he wakes up when Noctis sneaks into the room. A sliver of light flashes, and then closes briefly. Prompto hears ruffling in the drawers, and the sheets rustle for a moment, before it becomes quiet again. 

Prompto sniffs, and rolls over. He checks the time, and sets his phone back down. 

He closes his eyes, and attempts to fall back asleep — but there's a whispered, very soft, almost inaudible — 

"Prompto?" 

He waits, just in case he was imagining it. A moment later. 

"Prom? You awake?" 

Prompto doesn't want to reply. But he swallows, and then whispers. 

"Yeah." 

It's so dark, Prompto can't see a thing. There's a little bit of light that comes in from the street, but it's not enough to see across the room. It goes deathly quiet once more, and then. 

_"I'm sorry."_

Prompto squeezes his eyes shut, and scrubs at his eyes. His heart clenches so hard, he feels it drop into his stomach. Once more he's offered an apology without explanation, but once more he smiles a little and says, "It's okay." 

"Can I come over there?" 

Prompto is so stunned by the question, he stutters, "S-Sure?" 

Noctis slips out of his bed and patters across the room. His comforter is lifted, and Prompto numbly scoots over towards the wall. Noctis climbs alongside him, and Prompto goes from half-asleep to  _wide awake_ in a friggin' heartbeat. 

It's a full size bed, but Noctis slides all the way forwards, and tucks an arm over his side. Prompto can feel blood in his ears, and he really hopes Noctis can't hear his heart thudding so fast. 

"Sorry," Noctis mutters again.

"Are you okay?" Prompto whispers. 

Noctis shifts his head so he's on the same pillow, and looks at Prompto straight on. He has these cloudy blue eyes that Prompto has never had the pleasure of seeing up close. He’s downright gorgeous, even when Prompto is still a little upset.

"Yeah." Fingers press briefly into his spine, just once, like he's testing the waters. It makes him shiver. Noctis rasps, "Rough weekend. But you don't deserve to be treated like shit for it." 

“Just don’t do it again," Prompto whispers. Noctis smiles, and nods against he pillow, before closing his eyes.  

Prompto can see his eyelashes, and the porcelain of his neck, and Prompto's heart squeezes again. 

_What is happening?_

Noctis falls asleep in seconds. Prompto is horrified of moving the arm around his waist, so he lays perfectly still, and tries not to exhale too loudly. Noctis breathes steadily, and it lulls Prompto within the hour. 

 

He wakes up to warm morning sun, and the beeping of his alarm. Prompto groans, and rolls over to grab his phone, but stops short. 

Prompto snaps his eyes open. Noctis is flopped on his stomach, arm wrapped tight around him, face buried in Prompto's neck. 

Alright, so that wasn't just a really good dream. Prompto was already warm, but he flushes hot again.

He wants to tangle his hands in Noct’s hair. Fuck. He wants to kiss him. Prompto closes his eyes again, and bites his tongue. The beeping stops, and Prompto has an existential crisis. He doesn't  _really_ need to go to class, does he? 

Noctis breathes against his neck, and Prompto squirms. He makes a soft exhale, and oh god, Prompto is whipped. He’s so done for. It’s over.

He brings a hand up and pushes Noct’s hair out of his face. He's so beautiful. 

The door creaks open, and Prompto snaps his hand back to his side. The door opens a little bit more, and Ignis peeks in. 

"Um —" Prompto starts. Shit, he doesn't know how to defend himself. It's not what it looks like? Except it's totally what it looks like. Oh gods, he's about to have his shit pushed in. 

Ignis crosses the room, and peeks around to look at Noctis. 

"Sorry?" Prompto whispers, wincing a little. Ignis looks at him, and half-smiles.

"Not your doing, I'm sure." Ignis leans down and cards a hand through Noctis's hair. Ignis presses a kiss to Noct’s cheek, and he's so close Prompto can smell his aftershave. "Noctis, darling." 

Noctis groans, and rolls more on top of Prompto, who lets out an  _oof_ sound. 

Ignis breathes out a laugh, and tucks Noctis's hair behind his ear. 

"Love. Prompto has class in an hour." 

"Don't care," Noctis mumbles. 

"I don't know what's happening," Prompto whispers. Ignis softly laughs. 

"He's a real cat. I'll take him for you." 

"Thanks. It wouldn't be a problem, but um. Class." 

Ignis nods. He slides his arms beneath Noctis, and picks him up with minimal effort which is - ugh, too much too early. Noctis says something under his breath, and Ignis shifts him a little, before kicking open the door the rest of the way. He goes to step out of the doorway, but hesitates. He turns. 

"Prompto." 

"Y-Yeah?" Prompto sits up. 

Ignis looks at him seriously. With Noctis already asleep again in his arms, Ignis nods.

"Thank you." 

He takes Noctis to his own room, and Prompto wishes he could go with. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks guys :')


	4. Chapter 4

 

The mood in the apartment feels lightyears better. Prompto really missed just hanging out, (even if it was only a few days). It seems like the guys missed it too? Or else they wouldn't keep inviting Prompto to things. 

He starts to grow a little suspicious. 

"Isn't this supposed to be a date?" Prompto asks. 

"So what?" Gladio says, handing Prompto a smoothie. Prompto has no idea what to say to that, so he takes a long sip. There's a hole in the wall taco-truck that they keep coming back to like a coke addict, but it's a  _Saturday night —_ that's like, date territory. 

 Prompto has hung out with them every night for the last two weeks, and Prompto seems to be the only one concerned about that. 

"Do you think I can spit in that trash can?" Noctis asks, leaning over the street bridge. 

"Please don't," Ignis deadpans. 

"Oh  _totally,"_ Prompto says. 

Noctis leans over, hacks, and spits right over the edge. It doesn't go in the trashcan, but lands smack-dab on some guy's head. Gladio pushes at their shoulders hissing,  _"Scatter!"_

A shout from below,  _"Hey!"_

Ignis tugs them across the bridge, and they hide in the stairwell. Noctis is bent over laughing and laughing; Ignis flicks his ear, and Noctis yelps. 

"You are a git." 

"You love me," Noctis grins. Ignis looks like he's really questioning why. 

"Do you guys wanna' go catch a movie?" Gladio asks. He looks at the time on his phone. "There might be a few showings left." 

Prompto snorts, "Dude, I'm not paying fifteen bucks for a movie." 

" _I'd_ pay so it doesn't matter." 

This really feels like a date. They  _are_ aware that Prompto is here, right? 

Noctis wraps an arm around Prompto's shoulders and says, "The bowling alley might be open." 

"It has been a rather long time...” Ignis says. 

"Bowling it is," says Gladio. 

"Oh, now we're in  _my_ domain," Prompto grins, and wraps an arm back around Noctis. "Get your rags ready, because I'm about to wipe the floor with you." 

"Cocky, are we?" Ignis smirks. 

"I'm a pro at any sport that doesn't involve running." 

Noctis laughs next to his ear, and adds, "I think we were meant to be friends." 

Gladio leans over and sips out of Noctis's cup when he isn't looking, and Noctis shouts. 

"Hey!" 

"Here." Ignis holds out his smoothie. Gladio takes a slip, and grabs for Ignis's free hand when he's done. "Why didn't you just get your own?" 

"I didn't want one," Gladio says. "I'm supposed to be off sugar this week." He takes another sip, and Ignis rolls his eyes. Ignis isn’t fragile by any sense, but Gladio’s hands make his look so slender; the contrast is beautiful, and Prompto wonders if it’d be weird to ask for a photo.

They walk back to the car, and Ignis drives them to the bowling alley. It's past ten, which means  _cosmic bowling!—_ so they order drinks and fries and put stupid names in the machine. 

"Noct, I believe it's your turn," Ignis points to the screen, where it says ANALDESTROYER in bold letters. 

Noctis cracks his knuckles and wobbles a little as he stands. Prompto laughs, because he's kinda' feeling that second round too. 

"Watch how it's done, Specs," Noctis says, and gets a gutter ball. He bows as they laugh, and sits back on Gladio's lap. Prompto loves the way Gladio just accepts him so easily, arms wrapping around his waist. Gladio looks really good tonight; worn jeans, black hoodie rolled up his arms, snapback on. Prompto could stare at his tattoos forever. 

COOKINGMAMA flashes, and Ignis stands fluidly, and takes his turn. When he bends, Noctis and Gladio wolf whistle. Ignis looks unimpressed. Alright, in their defense, he  _does_ have a nice butt. 

Prompto spins in his chair, and says, "Hey, we're all wearing black tonight. Squad." 

"I suppose we do match," Ignis says. He's in a black buttondown and slim jeans, and there's something about the pointed toe oxfords that really get Prompto in the gut. And the belt. Fuck that belt. 

Jeez, Prompto's drunk. 

He still rolls a strike, and flips them off vaguely as he sways back into his seat. Ignis smiles at him, "Color me impressed." 

Prompto begs himself not to get hard. These jeans are way too tight for him to get hard. 

"Hey Prom, do you have your camera?" Noctis asks. 

"Yeah. Why?" 

"We should take a picture." 

Prompto snaps, "Dude. Yes." 

He fishes it out of his bag, and manages to get a selfie with the bowling alley sign in the background. Later, when he's flipping through the film, he finds it a little blurry, but almost likes it better that way. Peace signs, drinks up, and fuzzy neon. 

They kinda' look good together, don't they? 

Prompto shouldn't think like that. But he wants to. 

 

* * *

 

 "Hey, I'm going to the gym. Does anyone wanna' come with?' 

"Fuck. No." Noctis chirps. 

Gladio turns, "Prom?" 

"Uhhh." He considers. This essay has gone to shit anyways so, "Why not?" 

"Cool," Gladio grins. "Get dressed." 

"Rest in peace, dude," Noctis says, not looking up. 

Prompto throws on some leggings and a tank top, and he finds some running shoes somewhere under his bed. Gladio is waiting for him against the front door, flipping his lanyard around his finger. He sees Prompto, and stares. 

"Go easy on me," Prompto jokes. "I can't benchpress my own bodyweight." 

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," Gladio grins — and Prompto nearly chokes on his tongue. He hides it in a cough, and follows him down the elevator. Their apartment has a shitty gym, so Gladio walks them down the street to the big two-story fitness center on the corner. Gladio flashes a card, and they let Prompto in without a fuss. 

He’s not really a gym guy, but school is so stressful, it might be good to burn off a little energy. That was his logic, anyways, but Prompto’s confidence wavers.

There's a lot of buff people here. It looks like more of a lifting gym, and it's really intimidating at face value; he spots a treadmill and heads right for it. Gladio grabs his shoulder before he can get too far.

"I'll be in that corner," he points. "If you need me."

"Okie dokie." 

Gladio goes off to lift weights, Prompto hops up on the treadmill, and he realizes his mistake immediately.  

There's a mirror on his left, and Prompto can see Gladio perfectly. Which isn't a problem for the first ten minutes — until Gladio really starts to sweat, and Prompto nearly trips over his own foot. He's not a runner as it is, and Prompto tries to go for a steady pace, but he ends up slowing down so he won't eat shit and die. Gladio is doing pullups on a bar, and Prompto keeps waiting for him to stop but he just  _keeps going —_

Those friggin' arms man. He wants to bite into one, just once. Just for the bucketlist, please. 

There's other attractive people here. Strong girls and dudes with thighs that could snap Prompto's neck — but he keeps looking back to Gladio. Sweatpants, hair tied up, too-tight-shirt- sexyass Gladio. 

Alright, okay. He's so hilariously taken, it's not even funny; get  _over it._ Prompto stares dead forward in a focus, and increases the speed on the treadmill. He successfully runs for over a minute without dying, so he glances back to Gladio — and he's staring back. Prompto's eyes snap downwards, and he feels his face go warm. 

He's reduced down to a speed-walk when Gladio gets on the machine beside him. 

"How're ya' holdin' up?" Gladio grins. He starts into a jog, and that's  _all_ Prompto needs, thanks. 

"Alive," Prompto breathes. 

Gladio laughs, "Want to give the stairmaster a go?" 

"Do you want to carry me home?" 

Gladio laughs again, and he has a really nice laugh, Prompto thinks. It's so deep and grainy. 

He drops his voice a little, and looks over to Prompto, "You know everyone in here is looking at you, right?" 

Prompto nearly squeaks, "What??" 

"Look around." 

Prompto does, and he sees heads turn away. A few don't. 

"Oh, jeez," Prompto slows down a little, and crosses his arms over himself. "This is why I don't go to the gym, everyone knows I don't belong here." 

Gladio looks at him strangely, and then laughs. 

"Dude, that's not why they’re staring at you." 

"Huh?" 

"I don't think you're aware of how hot you are," Gladio says, still jogging away. "It's kind of a shame." 

"Man," Prompto reaches over and jabs him in the side. "That's not funny." 

"I'm deadass serious." 

Prompto's face must be a mess. Sweaty and red and his hair is all fucked. He looks away, 

"They're probably just staring at you." 

"Nah," Gladio grins.

Prompto glances back. He's such a tough looking guy, but he's so buttery inside, Prompto wishes there were more people like him around. 

He's a little wobbly on the walk back to the apartment, but Gladio steadies him with a hand on his back, and Prompto thinks maybe he'll go to the gym again. 

 

 

* * *

 

 "Oh! Iggy-" 

"No." 

"But I didn't even -" 

"No." 

Noctis huffs, and sets down the jumbo pack of candy. He makes a line towards the ice cream, "Iggy-" 

"Put it back." 

Noctis opens his mouth to argue, but Gladio presses a finger to his lips, and slips the ice cream in the back of the cart when Ignis isn't looking. Noctis blows him a kiss. 

"Oh, Ignis!" Prompto opens up one of the  doors, "Can we get a pie?" 

"A  _store-bought_ pie?" Ignis examines the fresh vegetables, and sets them in a bag. “What a disgrace. I will make you a pie at home." 

"Okay!" 

"Soft," Noctis coughs. 

"What was that?" 

"Nothing." 

Prompto rides on the back of the cart as he pushes. Ignis tries desperately to keep all the nonsense out of their cart, but Gladio and Noctis are a powerful tag team. They turn down the next isle, and Prompto gasps. 

"Oh! Oh! There's home stuff over here-" he abandons the cart, and skids over towards the lamps. "This one has an octopus on it!" 

"Shut up, no way," Noctis says. "We need it."

"We do not need a lamp." 

" _DOG PILLOW!"_  Prompto shouts, holding it above his head like the Lion King, and Noctis echoes him. 

"Dog pillow!"

Ignis looks exhausted. 

"We don't-" 

"Babe." Noctis takes the pillow, and shoves it in Ignis's face. "It's a dog wearing a bow-tie." 

Ignis sighs. Noctis and Prompto whoop, and shove it beneath the cart. Ignis turns, "Gladio, what is that?" 

"Oven mitts," Gladio says, and makes a grabby claw motion. "They look like dinosaurs." 

"Whatever," grumbles Ignis. Gladio throws them in the cart with glee. 

"Oh, Ignis-" 

 _"No."_ Ignis grabs Noctis by the back of the collar, and steers him in the opposite direction. "We need cinnamon, and parsley. You two, go." 

"Parsley and what?" 

 _"Cinnamon,"_ Ignis stresses, and all but kicks them in the butt. "If you return with anything else I am leaving you here." 

Noctis mocks his voice playfully, but Gladio grabs his hand and steers him away. Gladio always seems to know when Ignis is on the end of his rope. 

"Are you sure it's a good idea to send those two off?" Prompto laughs. 

"No," Ignis says, putting back the oven mitts. "But they'll likely forget about what they saw by the time they return." 

"You're kind of a genius." 

Ignis smiles at him. They walk towards the bread isle, and Prompto scooters on the back of the cart. He's humming to the music, throwing his weight back and forth to see if he can move the cart without touching the ground, when Ignis grabs him by the waist and hauls him around the corner. 

_"Oof!-"_

"Shush!" 

He pulls them down the cereal isle, and peeks around the shelf. Ignis looks deadly serious, and he's in a slightly protective stance, arm thrown outwards to keep Prompto back. 

"What's wrong?!" 

Prompto tries to look over his shoulder - but jerks back, heart racing. 

Ravus is here, with the rest of their friends. There's six or seven of them picking out beer in the liquor isle, and Prompto hides behind Ignis's shoulder. 

"Come," Ignis says, pulling him the opposite way. Prompto stumbles a little, and Ignis rights him. When they’re out of earshot, Prompto sags.

"Thanks,” he croaks. “You’re the best.”

Ignis stares him down. 

"Is there anything you need to tell me?"

Prompto shakes his head. Ignis doesn't say anything more; he looks at him a little sadly, and Prompto keeps his mouth shut. 

"Coriander and pepper," Noctis appears, holding one in each hand. Ignis rolls his eyes, and takes them. 

"Close enough." 

"Where'd the cart go?" Gladio asks. 

"Oh, uh-" Prompto looks back, but Ravus is gone. He exhales. 

"Let us go before the bill runs too high," Ignis says. He presses a hand to Prompto's upper back and steers him gently. Prompto probably looks like a child, but that hand grounds him more than you know. 

Noctis takes one look at the shopping cart and scoffs, 

"You put back the oven mitts!!" 

"Damn." 

 

* * *

 

 Prompto lays on their bedroom carpet, and groans. His arms are outstretched, feet pressed against the wall, and he stares up at the lights on their ceiling. He looks over to the digital clock on Noct's bedside, squeezes his eyes shut, and groans again. 

Noctis enters the room with a popsicle stick in his mouth. He stops short, and his neutral face doesn't change as he stares at Prompto. 

"Is it a floor day?" 

"It's a floor day.” 

Noctis pulls the popsicle out with a slurp. 

"What happened?" 

"I'm totally going to fail my sketching assignment.”

“Why.”

“I'm supposed to sketch a live model, but all my other classmates already have partners." 

"Whens it due?" 

"Tomorrow." 

"Damn," Noctis says. He pauses, and leans up against the wall, "Does it have to be a classmate?" 

"No? It just has to be a real life person." 

Noctis shrugs, "I can do it." 

Prompto twists around, and looks at him. 

"Wait, really?" 

"Yeah, sure." 

"You have to sit still for like, two hours." 

"I do that all day bro." 

"You can't fall asleep!" 

"I won't!" Noctis barks. He chews on the end of his stick, "Where do you want me?" 

And that's how Prompto ends up here, sketching Noctis as he sits shirtless on the end of the coffee table, legs slightly spread, slouched just a little. 

Prompto put the T.V. on just to give them some background noise, but Noctis is looking straight at him. 

Noctis isn't doing anything other than sitting, but somehow he makes it look so attractive. He should really consider modeling, because the whole sleepy, porcelain doll look really works for him. Prompto keeps erasing because he can't get his  _hair_ right, and also because this was a horrible idea, and he can't focus at all. 

Noctis never changed out of his jeans, and Prompto tries to capture the rips in the knees, and the rosiness of his knuckles. There's a big 'ol blank space where his chest is, because Prompto doesn't trust himself. 

Noctis is still looking straight at him, and Prompto feels flustered, erasing again. 

"You're cute when you're focused," Noctis says. Prompto snaps the tip of his pencil. 

"Oops!" He shakily laughs. He grabs his sharpener, and switches to a 2B. "Um, let me know if you need a break." 

"I'm fine." 

Prompto draws in his hips. There's a fine V-line that runs into his jeans, and Prompto adds the elastic of his underwear. He tries to draw detail in his arms, but his pencil keeps returning to his eyes. They're just so... _captivating_. They're cloudy, like a lakeside — but laser focused and strongwilled; he holds a sense of authority in his shoulders, and in the slight spread of his knees, and soon Prompto is utterly lost in it all. 

Noctis really is gorgeous. There's not a single mole; not on his arms, his stomach, or his neck. Noctis carries a natural pout, and it's Prompto's favorite part about him, so he tries to capture it with his sketching. 

Noctis wets his lips. Prompto bites his own. 

The air feels charged, suddenly. Noctis’s legs slide open a little more, and Prompto’s eyes immediately fall to track the movement. Noctis smirks, coy as a puppeteer. He chews on his lip. Prompto’s eyes snap back to his mouth. He inhales, and Prompto watches his chest expand. 

Prompto wants to lick up into his neck, and bite down on markless skin. He wants to do a lot of things.

"Prompto." 

The lazy, guttural tone shocks him back to real life. 

"Huh??" 

"I said I'm going to get some water." 

"Oh, that's fine," Prompto looks at his pad, and blinks. "I think I'm done." Jeez, who turned up the heat in here?

Noctis appears over his shoulder before Prompto can flip it shut, and he smiles. 

"Woah. That actually looks like me." 

"Really? You mean that?" 

"Yeah," Noctis takes it from his hand, and looks at it closer. "I like your style." 

There's an embarrassing amount of detail in the eyes, and his hands. He didn't have time to shade much, but it should earn him a B, at least. 

"Thanks for your help, dude. You're a real life saver."

"Pff, no biggie. I had the fun part anyways," Noctis grins.

Prompto has absolutely no idea what that means. Noctis leaves to grab water from the sink, stretching his back a little, and Prompto wonders if Noct will let him draw him from behind.  

 

* * *

 

 Prompto balances his bags on one arm, and manages to get the door open with his knee. He nudges it open, and goes to set his bags on the —

  
"What the hell?" 

Noctis looks up.

"Hey." 

Prompto has never seen so many pies in his life. They're on the kitchen counter, stacked on the stove, piled up on the table, and Noctis sits in a fortress of pies, watching T.V. through a small window. 

"I said I wanted  _a_ pie!" Prompto cries. "One!" 

"Ignis has been stress baking again," Noctis says. 

"I've seen stress baking. This is..." Prompto looks around, “...madness.” It's not humanly possible to eat  _this_ much pie. Prompto hesitantly sets his shit on the floor.

"Yeah. I tried to stop him, but I had to text Gladio and get him to come back from class early." 

Prompto tips the tin of one of the counter-pies, and it looks exquisite. Ignis has outdone himself, and that’s an understatement. 

"Where are they now?" 

"In the shower," Noctis says. "Gladio is really good at chilling Iggy down." 

Prompto ignores the double entendre for his own sanity. 

"I didn't think Ignis was someone that  _needed_ chilling down."  It's actually kind of scary to think about. 

Noctis shrugs. 

"He's just as human as the rest of us." 

The bedroom door opens, and Prompto startles a little when Ignis comes out. His hair is wet, and he's in Gladio's shirt, and he looks tired. Ignis sees him, and blinks once.

"Oh, hello Prompto." 

"Hey..." He greets. "Uh, you okay?" 

"Yes," Ignis says, approaching the fridge, "-just a lot on my mind. How was class?" 

"Could be worse!"

Ignis nods. Prompto wonders if it'd be weird to give him a hug. Does Ignis like hugs? He kinda' wants to hug him. Ignis stands in the kitchen, barefoot and pantsless, and still manages to hold himself with an esteemed amount of dignity and grace that makes Prompto's heart hurt. 

"Hey, lets watch a movie," Noctis says.

Ignis hums, "I wouldn't be opposed.” 

Noctis opens his arms, and Ignis sits next to him, popping the tab on his Ebony. Gladio comes out of the room, toweling his hair. He slings it around his neck and asks, "What should we do with all the pies?" 

“No idea.” 

"Give it to the homeless?" Prompto suggests. 

Ignis looks at him, and his eyes are soft. 

"I think that's a wonderful idea." He looks away, and continues, "Be sure to pick your favorite. I made them for you." 

Oh god. If Prompto could melt into the floor and cry at the same time, he would. 

Gladio starts moving the pie pans and stacks them on the kitchen chairs. Prompto walks to his bedroom, and starts to shuck off his jeans. He's got so many fucking layers on today—

Noctis calls, "Hey, are you watching with us?" 

Prompto wiggles into some shorts, and replies, "Depends. What'd you decide?" 

"I think we're doing the Mummy." 

"The old one, the oldish one, or the new one?" 

"The one with Brendan Fraser." 

"Oh, dope." 

Prompto comes back in the living room, prepared to take the recliner, but Noctis is in Ignis's lap, and Gladio pats the open spot next to him, so Prompto is morally obligated to sit there. They click off the lamp light for cinematic effect, and Prompto gets about a third through the movie before he's completely distracted. 

It's not really his fault. Noctis has his head on Iggy's shoulder, and he's petting through his hair, and Ignis looks like he's unwinding like thread. Gladio's hand is hooked in Iggy's bare thigh, and Prompto's tongue feels too big in his mouth. 

The Mummy appears, and Prompto's attention is dragged back by the jumpscare. It doesn't last long, because when Prompto glances back over, Noctis is twisted slightly, kissing up the side of Ignis's neck, and Prompto's stomach plummets. It's like 50CC's of arousal straight to the groin; the movie is officially dead to him. 

Noctis's hand is curled up at the other side of Ignis’s neck, and he's just so -  _gentle,_ lips moving against his ear, thumb tracing his jawline. Ignis turns his head, and they kiss  _long._ The kind of kiss between people that are in love. The kind of kiss those romance movies always fail to get right. 

Gladio has his left arm thrown over the back of the couch, and he's still thumbing along Ignis's leg with his right hand, and Prompto has  _no idea_ how he's still watching this movie. Iggy and Noctis are so beautiful they could make porn by standing still — and here they are, sucking face right by Gladio’s ear. (Of which, Prompto is trying really hard not to think about that arm around his shoulders. Or the ankle pressed against his own. Or the deep V of his shirt. Six, Gladio has great pecs).

Noctis makes a sound — it's super soft and barely audible, but fuck. Shit. They know Prompto is still here, right?

Ignis raises a hand to Noctis's lower back as he sighs, and Prompto is in serious danger of embarrassing himself, so he stands up and yawns. 

"I'm fallin' asleep here." He pats Gladio's arm, and makes a tactical retreat. "Gnight!" 

Gladio looks at him, and for a moment there’s — disappointment? 

"Goodnight Prom," he rumbles.

Noctis pulls away, and looks to Prompto, lips wet and hair lit up by the flash of the T.V., and Ignis leans around and says, accent thick,  _goodnight darling,_ and Prompto can't do this. He really can't do this. 

He shuts his bedroom door, and grits his teeth, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

 

 

 

 

It's not  _fair._

 

 

* * *

 

 He pulls an all nighter to get his dumbshit essay in on time. Prompto isn't even sure if it was worth it; he might as well as submitted a handful of peanut M&M's, because they both have the same societal value. Well, at least you'll get something to eat out of the M&M's. 

Prompto returns from class, makes it the three feet to the couch, and passes the fuck out. 

He wakes up, and it's dark outside. Prompto's back aches from his weird pretzel position, and he slept so hard he feels like he got steamrolled by a truck. Prompto goes to stretch, but realizes that there's a blanket placed around him. 

Prompto sniffs, and blinks open his eyes a bit more. He hears talking, and freezes. 

It's low and mumbled, and Prompto has to wake up a bit more to hear it. Once his eyes focus, he inhales, and holds his breath. 

_"That's mine-"_

_"Then take it off me."_

_"Honestly, I can't keep a shirt around here without either of you stealing it."_

_"Stop smelling so good and I will.”_

Prompto prays for patience. 

_You've got to be friggin' kidding me._

Prompto doesn't know how he ended up here in this exact point in time. He must've been a pretty bad dude in his past life. 

Gladio has Noctis trapped against the kitchen counter. Noctis is bent forward, hands lazily stretched before him, and Gladio grinds up against his ass. They're clothed (fucking  _thank you),_ but Gladio is in grey sweatpants and Noctis is in one of his shirts. Noctis has on black thigh socks, and he's so sexy Prompto doesn't blame Gladio for bending him right over the kitchen counter. 

"And these?"

Gladio lifts up Noct's shirt and  _fuck -_ Prompto squeezes his eyes shut and holds his breath. 

"Iggy got 'em." 

"Of course he did," Gladio whispers. 

Prompto is going to burn and die here.

Noctis gasps, and Prompto's eyes fly open. Gladio has a hand reached down his front, and he's grinding Noct gently into the kitchen counter, and they just look so  _good._ Passionate and messy and they work so well it hurts. Gladio’s back is so mouthwateringly gorgeous, all muscle and dark ink; he looks like a statue of the ancients. Gladio kisses at his shoulder, Noctis lightly groans, and that’s valid.

"Shut up," Gladio purrs. "You'll wake Prom." 

Noctis moans. Like, a real, honest, raspy moan. 

"Ohhh," Gladio hums. "Is that how it is?" 

Prompto fucking panics. He feigns a yawn, rolling over and facing the couch cushions, and the other two go silent. 

"Come on," Gladio whispers. Feet patter, and the other bedroom door shuts, and Prompto counts to ten before sprinting into his bathroom with an unrighteous fury. He clutches the sink white-knuckled, and jerks off faster than he ever has in his life. He's guilty,  _so_ guilty, but there's a heartache in his soul and a fire in his skin and he realizes then, that this is beyond attraction. 

Prompto crawls into the shower, and sits on the tub floor until he's red all over. 

 

* * *

 

 Once is an accident. Twice is a coincidence. But now, Prompto is sure the universe is fucking with him. 

 

Let's look at the facts, shall we? 

They go out for tacos after class, and Noctis hooks an arm in his as they walk. Ignis cooks them dinner, and tenderly bandages his finger when Prompto tries, (and fails) to help. Gladio takes him to the gym and pays for his smoothies and always holds open the door. 

That's friendliness, Prompto thinks. Kinda' touchy, but that's cool. That's nice. 

But then — 

Noctis crawls in his bed, sometimes. Ignis will push back his bangs, and comb through his hair in passing. Gladio will carry him to bed when he’s fallen asleep at the kitchen table. 

It’s too much. He doesn’t know what it means, and it only gets worse.

Prompto is happy to get out of class early. Halfway through the hour their professor said,  _I have a headache and I feel like shit, go home,_ and nobody complained one bit. His roommates should be home too, and Prompto is eager to get back because maybe — they can play games! Prompto is totally willing to pay for pizza. Hm, perhaps they should make it a onesie party. Ignis definitely doesn't own a onesie, but he might fit in one of Prompto's— 

He opens the apartment door, and drops his bag. 

Noctis is on his knees.

The blinds are half drawn, and the T.V. is on mute, and Noctis is on his  _knees_.

Gladio's jeans are undone, but not quite pushed down, and Ignis is at his side, hands at his face, kissing Gladio tongue deep while Noctis noses into his thigh. 

Prompto's mouth drops, and all eyes look to him. 

They don't even have the gall to look guilty. Gladio keeps his hand in Noct's hair, and Noctis rests his head on his thigh, fingers playing with the waist of his underwear, and Ignis perks, lips red,

"Oh, Prompto-" 

His brain hard resets. 

"Shit!" Prompto jerks back, fumbling for his bag and nearly tripping, "I'm so - I'll just - shit, fuck -" Prompto stumbles. "Sorry!" He cries, and slams the door shut. 

Holy Six. Prompto darts down the hall, turns two corners, and leans up against one of the walls, heart thudding in his throat. 

Forget Viagara. Wow, hello, 1-800-INSTABONER? Prompto has a new product for you, and it's literally whatever the fuck he just saw. 

Prompto is hit with the realization that ah, yes. That was his apartment he just ran away from. God dammit. What is he supposed to do now?

He walks around the complex, until he finds the stairs to the roof deck. There's a shitty pool with ten-thousand leaves cluttered at the bottom, so it's essentially abandoned. Prompto collapses in one of the sun-bleached lawn chairs, and presses his head in his hands. 

He doesn't know how long he can hide it. He doesn't  _want_ this. He doesn't want to feel this way. 

Prompto grits his teeth. They think he's cool. They think he doesn't care — but he cares so so so much, and they can't  _know, they can't, or-_

His phone buzzes, and he's reluctant to check it. 

 

2:51 P.M. 

  
IGGY B-) 

 

>  _Come back, please. We need to talk._  

 

* * *

 

 Prompto really doesn't want to do this. He sets his forehead against the door, and grips the handle. 

He doesn't want to move apartments again. He doesn't want to lose all his friends. 

There's talking inside. Prompto takes in a huge breath of air, and opens the door. Gladio is out on the balcony, Ignis turned at his side, and Noctis is on the couch, knees to his chest with his phone at his nose. He looks up, and straightens. 

"Hey! He's back!" 

Gladio and Ignis turn. Prompto shields his face with his hand and tries to speedwalk to his room, but Noctis hops off the couch, 

"No no no-  _you_ get back here-" 

"We were just about to come looking for you," Ignis says, closing the sliding door behind him. 

"Sit him down," Gladio says. "We don't need Prom breaking his nose again." 

"I never broke it!" 

Noctis sets his hands on Prompto's shoulders and directs him to the recliner, and he sits stiffly. Ignis goes to cross his legs on the couch, and Gladio follows, and the tension in the air has Prompto so on edge he just - 

"Listen, if you're going to kill me then just do it now and spare me the studying for finals." 

"You're not even close, buddy," Noctis says, flopping back with Gladio. He looks nervous, and it's making  _Prompto_ nervous. 

"Um-" 

"Sorry if we weirded you out," Gladio says. His voice is relaxed, but he's popping the knuckles of one hand, and Prompto can read the tension in his jaw. 

"You didn't!" Prompto says, way too fast. Fuck. "I mean. Uh-" 

"That is a relief," Ignis says. 

It goes silent.

Ignis looks at Noctis.

Noctis looks at Gladio.

Gladio raises his eyebrows.

Ignis makes a motion with his head, and Gladio points back, and Noctis slams his hand on the coffee table. 

"God dammit!" Noctis turns forwards. "Prompto we -" 

Ignis starts, "Noct, wait-" 

"-Prompto we  _like_ you." 

Prompto's blody goes deathly cold. His lungs shrivel up, and a lump catches in his throat. His mouth parts slightly, and he stares. 

"All three of us," Gladio clarifies.

Ignis presses his lips together, and then turns, seriousness settling in his face. 

"We've been discussing this in private for some time, so we supposed it best to hear your thoughts." 

Prompto swallows. He bites his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. 

"Thoughts on..."

"Joining us." Noctis says, straight forward. "Dating us."

They're staring at him. They're  _staring —_

Prompto laughs dryly and his voice comes out crackly and gross. 

"That's not funny." He scrubs at his eyes, and they sting. "That's not — that's really  _not-"_

_It's not funny._

 

Prompto laughs. 

 

_It's not funny._

 

 

Gladio and Noctis look confused. Ignis looks to the floor. 

"What?" 

"I said that's not funny!" Prompto's voice cracks. "I don’t know who told you, but this isn’t a joke to me-" 

Gladio grits through his teeth, "Why the fuck would we be joking?-" 

"Don't," Ignis says. 

"Dude-" Noctis stands and reaches for him, and Prompto flinches, and the room comes to a dead standstill. Noctis numbly slowly sits back down. Gladio may be a brute, but he's not stupid; he looks between them, and glares at Ignis. 

"What aren't you telling us?" 

"Prompto," Ignis starts. "We're completely serious." 

"Stop," Prompto says, still fighting the urge to cry. He wants to leave. He wants to go  _home._

 

_It's not funny._

 

"Darling, we'd never do that to you. Nobody is laughing."

Prompto's eyes snap up. Ignis looks guilty. 

Noctis cries, "What's happening?" 

"Forgive me," Ignis bows. "I did some snooping. I had to know if you were truly okay." 

Oh.

Prompto sighs, and scrubs his face. He can't look them in the eye. Cool, now Ignis also knows what a giant loser he is.

"I see," Prompto mumbles. He looks at his hands, "Then you gotta’ understand. I can't forgive you." 

"We-" 

"I was really in love with my old roommate," Prompto explains. He picks at the hole in his jeans. "It was bad. We flirted all the time and we hung out every day and I thought like, I dunno'. I thought we'd be good together." Prompto looks up, and back down. "I told him I liked him, and he said to meet by the school gate. When I showed up..." He laughs, but it comes out bad. "It sounds so stupid out loud."

"Prompto-" 

"All our friends were there. Word got out, and it was the joke of the  _year._ " He smiles, "Poor 'ol Prompto — kid thought he  _actually_ stood a chance with Ravus." 

"That's disgusting," Gladio fumes. 

"Well, everyone else thought it was pretty funny." Prompto stares, tears gone, teeth clenched. "So I can't forgive you."

He looks up at the couch, and all he sees are the faces of his friends, standing behind that gate. 

Noctis puffs up and shouts, "We'd  _never_ do that to you!" 

It snaps Prompto back to reality. Ignis is chewing on his thumbnail, and Gladio has his hands folded, white knuckled, and Noct's eyes are shimmery. 

"Please," Noctis begs. "Nothings right without you anymore." 

Prompto feels winded where he sits. 

"We think this could work," says Gladio. 

"Fuck, we really want it to," Ignis says, and the sincerity - 

Noctis looks ready to cry any moment. 

It’s real?

Prompto flings himself out of the chair, and launches himself into Noct's arms. Noctis catches him, and squeezes him so tight, it burns. 

"I thought you'd figured it out," Prompto snivels. "I thought you guys knew. " _I thought you would throw me away._

"Knew what?" Gladio softens. 

"That I liked you!" Prompto hides his face in Noctis's shoulder, and he can feel hands shaking at his back. 

"We had our suspicions," Ignis starts. "But we were embarrassingly obvious in return." A pause. "Or so we thought." 

Noctis hasn't said anything yet. He brings up a knee to squeeze Prompto even closer. 

"I don't know anything about this," Prompto says, blearily looking to Gladio. "How will this even work? How-" 

"It's easy." 

"We’ll show you." 

Prompto tried to pull back, but Noctis presses his face in his hair, and says, 

"Not yet." 

Gladio smiles all toothy and lopsided, and Ignis lets out a long breath he was holding, and Prompto's heart  _soars._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a big boy, im sorry. trying to divide up everything ive written is impossible but anyways heres wonderwall

"Um, what is happening?" 

"Dude, it's our first date," Noctis says, sitting on the floor to tie on his boots. "Get dressed." 

"Isn't it weird though?" Prompto peeks in the living room. "We live together. We've been on like, a perpetual date for the last week." 

"That's not even remotely how it works."  

"I argued that we've tried to take you on at  _least_ six dates before this," Gladio says. "But I guess it's the first one you're aware of." 

"I don't even know where we're going!" 

"Pants, shirt, jacket," Noctis says, standing. “Let’s go.”

 Ignis is in the kitchen, setting food in a cooler, and Prompto is ninety percent sure they'll be doing something outside, so he grabs a beanie just in case. It's getting kinda' cold now that fall is on it's way out. 

Prompto doesn't want to admit how nervous he is. But he's kinda' friggin' nervous. It’s not like they can just go back to normal if it blows up in his face — and also Prompto really, really doesn’t want it to blow up in his face.

"That should do it," Ignis says. 

"Did you grab the beer?" 

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" 

Gladio laughs, and pecks Iggy's mouth before bending over to pick up the cooler. 

"Holy shit gross, there's a cricket in my boot," Noctis cries, and kicks it off so hard his shoe flies into the living room. 

"Ow!" 

"Sorry!" 

Prompto bends over laughing, and Noctis wobbles over to find his shoe, and Prompto forgets about being nervous. 

They walk out to the car, and it doesn't really feel any different than usual. Prompto hops in the front seat and Ignis drives, while Noctis DJ's from the backseat. Gladio fucks with Noctis's hair until he gets mad and tries to switch seats, and Ignis yells something about seatbelts, and it just feels normal. 

Except this time, Noctis takes his hand when they exit the car. Their hands fit nice together; he has callouses that Prompto wasn't expecting. Noctis is warm and surprisingly bubbly tonight. 

They're in a public parking lot, and Ignis slips some change in the meter and —

"Is that the ocean?" 

"Do you mind?" 

"Of course not!" Prompto reaches in his shoulder bag, "I'm just glad I brought my camera!" 

Gladio carries the cooler, and Ignis grabs wood from the trunk. 

Prompto gasps, "Are we going to the fire pits?!" 

"Uh huh." 

"Dude! This is so romantic. I feel like a princess." 

Noctis looks at Gladio, and then turns back. 

"It was my idea, you're welcome," Noctis says. He leads them through the sand, and continues, "Specs wanted to go to a restaurant and I said fuck no. I hate talking over people." 

Prompto looks back at Ignis, "We could do it another day?" 

"Oh, we will," he purrs, and Prompto snaps back around. 

He's still not quite sure how to go about all this. It's all been relatively mundane up until now, but it still feels weird to be — well. Involved. He's no longer hiding in rooms and looking the other way, and that kind of permission is still hard to mentally grasp. 

Ignis starts to set out towels, and Prompto helps Gladio build the fire. Gladio seems to know exactly what he's doing, so Prompto settles for watching. 

"We should go camping one day," Gladio says. 

"Do you like to camp?" 

"I love it," he grins, and flicks on the lighter, setting the whole firepit ablaze. 

"Woah!" 

"I thought we ought to do some campfire cooking," Ignis says, reaching in the cooler and pulling out little wrapped tinfoil burritos. He gestures with it, "Salsa Chicken and Rice." 

"Fuck, yum." 

"You're the man, Iggy." 

Prompto kicks off his shoes; they're full of sand anyways, and tucks his socks in the soles. He digs his feet in the sand, and flops down. 

"I haven't been to the beach in so long!" 

"It's relatively close to campus," Ignis says. "We ought to come more, when our schedules allow it." 

Noctis helps Ignis set some of the meals in the center of the fire. A body sits next to him, and Prompto looks to meet Gladio's grin, "Can I?" 

Prompto pats the spot next to him, "Oh my good sir, it would be my  _pleasure._ " 

Gladio settles. Prompto stares at the fire, watching Ignis poke around in the coals with a stick, and Gladio grabs his side and tugs him over. 

"Come  _closer,_ " Gladio laughs. Prompto squirms, a little embarrassed. 

"Sorry." 

Gladio is so good at setting a mood.  He snorts, and casually sets a hand back to lean his weight on it, saying, "You don't have to act like a stranger. It's just us." 

"I'm not!" 

"Give him a break," Ignis says, settling down with Noctis. "We are not exactly normal."

Ignis is in a sweatshirt; like a real honest-to-god sweatshirt, and he looks really cute. Prompto realizes that he's allowed to say that. 

"Iggy you look cute," Prompto says. 

"Thank you," he smiles. 

Noctis frowns, "Dude, this is mine!"  

"You really think I'm going to allow sand in the pockets of my blazer?" Ignis looks down at him, "You're delusional, love." 

"I think these are your jeans, too," Prompto says, stretching out his legs. "Sorry." 

"Now you know how it feels," Gladio grins, and Noctis rolls his eyes. 

"At least Prompto is my size." 

"We started sharing clothes a month ago and now I cant remember what's mine anymore," Prompto explains. He stops. "Fuck, you really were flirting with me." 

"No shit," Noctis snorts.  

Gladio laughs by his ear, and he looks really pretty in the firelight. You can hear the ocean, but it's just a big black mass; a few other people are using the fire pits, but they're too far away to hear. The tension eases out of him bit by bit. 

"I have cards," Noctis says, digging in his pocket. "Anyone wanna' play?" 

"I play a mean go-fish," Prompto says. 

"Strip poker?” suggests Gladio. 

"How about spoons?" 

"What's that?" 

"It's fun, I assure you." Ignis digs for the utensils out of the cooler, and sets them on the towel. "Everyone gather round." 

They sit in a circle, and Ignis explains the rules. It starts off simple and civil, but twenty minutes in, and Noctis is rolling on the sand screaming, and Gladio is holding a spoon above his head like he just won the Olympics. 

"You suck!!!" 

"You must be quicker, darling," Ignis says. Noctis flips him off. "Prompto, how long ago did you grab that spoon?" 

Prompto laughs, "I was faking for  _at least_ a minute."

"You're sneaky," Noctis points. Prompto is feeling good — so he winks, and has the pleasure of watching  _Noctis_ get flustered for a minute.  

 "Alright, reset." 

"No. Dinner is ready," Ignis says, grabbing his stick. 

"But I have to regain my honor!" 

"You kicked my  _ass_ at Mario Party last week," Prompto says. "Like, you reamed me dude. I think I'm allowed to have this." 

Gladio nods, "Noct crushes at that game and it makes no fuckin' sense. It's all luck." 

"As is life," Ignis says, fishing out plates. Prompto feels bad that he's doing all the work, so he stands up to help — but Ignis glares him down. "Don't." 

Prompto sits, intimidated. Gladio slips a hand into Prompto’s lap and squeezes his knee, "Hey, this is us taking  _you_ out. You're not supposed to do anything." 

"Yeah," Noctis adds, lounging back. Gladio glares. 

"You never do anything anyways." 

"I do lots of things!" 

"Well, next time I'll take  _you_ guys out," Prompto grins. "And then you will do nothing and I'll do everything." 

Gladio looks kind of flattered. He subtly runs his hand down until he's holding Prompto's, and leans over to kiss into his hair. Prompto’s stomach flutters.

"Sounds like a plan."

Noctis squints. 

"Hey, no rule-breaking." 

"I didn't!"

"Huh?" Prompto looks up. 

Ignis hands him a plate and a plastic fork, "No kissing on a first date. It's a staple rule we've followed since we were children." 

"And we mean  _children,"_ Noctis says. "Gladio went out with a girl in middle school and Iggy and I followed along just to make sure he didn't kiss her." 

“I was so fuckin’ mad at you.”

Prompto laughs, "Why? What's the big deal?" 

"Tradition.”

"Superstition, more like." 

Prompto blows on the tinfoil before carefully peeling it away with his fork. It smells so good.

"Gladio broke the rule a  _lot_ in highschool." Noctis sticks his nose up, "Until he started dating us." 

Prompto raises his eyebrows. Ignis settles with his own plate and smiles, "He's a nasty flirt." 

"Can't help it, bro." 

Noctis gets a shit-eating smirk on his face, and nonchalantly peels open his tin foil. 

"Hey Prom, you wanna' know why Gladio keeps bringing you to the gym?" 

Gladio coughs, and Ignis snorts.

"Uh...do I?" 

"The leggings," Gladio, Ignis, and Noctis say together. 

Prompto blinks, stunned. 

"Tactical genius on his part," Noctis grunts. 

"I was rather upset I did not think of it myself." 

"You have a great ass," Gladio downright says. 

"I need you to know how many times I tripped because of you," Prompto points. "You were doing all those pullups on  _purpose._ " 

"Pshh, naw," Gladio grins. 

"Can I just..." Prompto extends a hand, and makes grabby fingers. "Please." 

Noctis starts wheezing, and Gladio holds up his arm. 

"Sure." 

Prompto squeezes his arm once, and then sits back. 

"Alright, I can die now. Pack up we're going home." 

Ignis is laughing now too, and for a moment Prompto forgets where he is. 

The food is beyond good, and Prompto eats Noctis’s vegetables when Ignis isn't looking. Their shoes are long gone, feet buried in the sand, and Gladio and Ignis start arguing about the agenda in  _Fried Green Tomatoes,_ and Noctis shows him how to make origami out of their napkins and their clothes will smell forever like a campfire, but Prompto will always think fondly of it. 

Ignis pulls out marshmallows and skewers. Noctis sets his on fire immediately, and Prompto tries to roast it — but he looses patience and sets it straight in the fire. 

"It's better crispy," Noctis chews. 

"You're an insult to puffs worldwide," Ignis replies. 

Gladio doesn't even bother roasting his. He eats marshmallows right out of the bag, and offends Ignis so badly, that Ignis spends the next five minutes roasting the  _perfect_ golden-brown marshmallow so Gladio can  _experience a smore correctly._

Gladio bites in and hums, "You're right, that is good." He smirks, and Ignis realizes how badly he just got played, and silently fumes as he roasts a second marshmallow for himself. 

"Babe," Gladio calls. Ignis turns, and Gladio kisses him, open mouthed and heavy. Ignis makes a surprised sound, but closes his eyes and kisses back. Gladio pulls back and wipes his mouth, grinning, "Thanks." 

"Weewoo weewoo!" Noctis points. 

"Hey, you said I couldn't kiss  _Prompto._ " 

"I do believe he's still within parameters," Ignis says, a little breathless. Prompto laughs, and Noctis rolls his eyes. 

The tide begins to change, and the cold starts to blow in off the ocean. Prompto takes a group selfie in the firelight, and he gets a few snaps of the campfire before Gladio starts to stomp it out. They clean up the trash and the towels and Prompto prepares to follow them back to the car — but Noctis grabs him by the sleeve. 

"Wait."

"What?" 

Noctis takes a good look at him. He bites his lip, and snorts, "They're going to kill me, but whatever —" 

Noctis presses his hands to Prompto's cheeks. Prompto never noticed their height difference, until right this moment, because Noctis has to lean down to kiss him. Prompto startles, hands going rigid, before he brings them to Noct's shoulders and kisses back. 

His lips are soft and he tastes like all the Hershey's chocolate he shoved in his mouth. Prompto's never felt the whole fireworks thing, but his body goes extra tingly, and his heart hammers against his ribs, so he’s pretty sure that’s what the romance novels are always going on about. Noctis kisses him once more and  _sighs,_ pulling back to look him in the eye.  

"What happened to the rule?" Prompto laughs, tongue thick. 

 "You're so fucking beautiful," Noctis says outright. His face is red, and Prompto smiles, bracing a hand at his cheek. It's warm. 

“Says you. Have you met a mirror?”

"Hey, are you guys-" Gladio turns, nearly at the sidewalk, and shouts.  _"You son of a bitch!"_

"Oh shit-" Noctis blurts, and starts running. Gladio goes zooming past him, kicking up sand as he chases Noctis down. Prompto giggles, and Ignis appears back at his side, towels in hand. 

"He's fast," Prompto notes. 

"He's dead," Ignis replies. Gladio does a running tackle off in the distance, and there's a feint scream as Noctis goes down in the sand. 

 

* * *

 

 

He liked kissing Noctis. He kind of wants to do it again. 

Noctis climbs in Prompto’s bed more, and Prompto is so far from complaining. Never in a million years would Prompto have guessed that Noctis was so snugly. They wake up in weird positions, feet and legs and arms all twisted. Prompto was  _sure_ he fell asleep as the big spoon, but somehow he's face up against the wall, Noctis flopped over his back, and his phone is beeping sooo far away. 

The door opens, and the beeping stops. 

A smooth voice;

"I didn't hear the shower, and assumed as such."

Prompto strains his neck to try and look over his shoulder, but Noctis is dead weight at his back. 

"I could skip," Prompto says. 

"You shouldn't," Ignis replies. He reaches over and pulls Noctis's hair aside. "Love, it's morning." 

Disgruntled mumbling. Prompto snorts, and tries to turn in his arms, but Noctis has him locked down. 

"I ought to separate you two on school nights," Ignis says. He leans up and over and kisses Noctis on the cheek. "Come on, sweetheart." 

Noctis groans. 

"Go crawl in with Gladio," Ignis hums. "He hasn't class until noon." 

Noctis perks up. His grip slackens, and Prompto turns in his arms. 

"Hi," he grins. 

"You're leaving me," Noctis grumbles. 

"Sorry!" 

Prompto worries about his morning breath, but says fuck it, and kisses Noctis anyways. Noctis hums happily, arms wrapping back around him, but Ignis pets a hand down Noctis's neck, and he shivers. 

"Now, please." 

Noctis huffs and kisses the corner of Prompto’s mouth, before getting out of bed. He patters out of the room, swaying sleepily — and there's the sound of a dull thunk as the other bedroom door shuts. 

"That worked," Prompto laughed. 

"Indeed," Ignis says. He looks at Prompto and softens. "Are you sure you don't want to meet us for pizza tonight?" 

"Ugh, I want to." He sits up a little, and rubs his eyes. He knows his hair is a mess and doesn't even bother. "I need to meet with Cindy and play catch up on homework." 

"Very well," Ignis says. He leans back, hesitates, and then turns to Prompto. He bends back over the bed and, kisses high up on his temple. "I will see you tonight." 

"Okay," he breathes. Ignis floats out of the room, and Prompto rubs at his face. 

 

He doesn't come home until late, but at least he got the majority of his report fleshed out. There's a quiz next week that he's not excited about, but he thinks he'll do okay. 

Prompto is sleepy, and he can feel the coming of a headache, but he opens the apartment door and is met with Gladio on the couch, Ignis center in his lap, and it's not the worst thing to come home to. 

"Hey," Gladio greets, lips still dead-center in Ignis's chest. 

Prompto startles, but reminds himself —  _right, it's fine, be cool —_

"Hi!" He grins. "Having fun?" 

"Oodles," says Ignis. 

"Iggy got this new shirt and it's been killin' me," Gladio says. He untucks it from Iggy's belt, and pops another button down the front. It's white and silky and he looks like an angel sent down to tempt mankind. Gladio turns and grins, "Whatya' think, Prom?" 

"He's beautiful," Prompto says, and then stutters, "I-I mean, the shirt -" 

Ignis laughs, and lazily combs his fingers through Gladio's hair. 

"Did you eat? I have leftovers in the fridge." 

"Yeah, we got fast food." Prompto sets down his backpack on the table. "Where's Noct?" 

"In the shower." Gladio noses into Ignis's collar, and coyly says, "You should join him." 

Fuck, he really wants to. But he doesn’t want to push any boundaries. 

"Er, I'm good.”

"Then come here," Ignis purrs. 

Alright, well. He can't say no to that. Prompto sits stiffly next to Gladio on the couch, and Gladio grabs for one of his hands. 

"Iggy is  _suuper_ soft," Gladio trills. "Feel." 

They've never even kissed, but Gladio takes his hand and presses it to Ignis's side, slipping beneath the shirt; Ignis looks down through his lenses when Prompto nervously slides his hand around to his lower abdomen. He is. Very soft. 

"Pretty, huh?" 

"Gladio," Ignis chides. 

"What?" he laughs. 

Prompto reluctantly pulls his hand away, and Ignis looks down at him through a smile. 

"Come now," Ignis says, patting Gladio's shoulder, and swinging off his lap. "We  _both_ have tests tomorrow." 

Gladio sighs. He looks to Prompto, takes off his hat, and pops it on Prompto's head.

"We're taking you out tomorrow night, so don't make plans." 

"You are?" Prompto asks, pulling the bill out of his face. 

"Yeah, I think we're seeing a movie." 

Prompto opens his mouth, and Gladio cuts him off, "I'm paying." 

The bathroom door opens and shuts, and Noctis comes out with his hair wrapped in a towel. 

"Whatever," Prompto rolls his eyes. "I'm paying for the next date and I  _will_ fight you." 

Gladio grins, reaching for his hips, "You think you can take me?"

"Yeah, I'll take you and chuck you right off the roof." 

Noctis starts, "The roof, the roof-" 

"-the roof is on fire!" They finish. 

"Gladio!" Ignis calls, from the bedroom. 

Gladio laughs, and kisses Prompto's hair before he follows Ignis in their room. Noctis patters into the kitchen, and checks the time, scoffing. 

"It's ten. They're not going to bed." 

Well, considering what Prompto walked in on, he's not surprised. Prompto hopes he didn't ruin the mood too much. Ha...is it hot in here? No?

They sleep in Noctis's bed tonight, and stay up a little too late playing King's Knight. He wakes up with his face in Noct’s back, and it’s friggin’ great.

 

* * *

 

Class is boring. He dozes off twice, and Cindy has to keep elbowing him to stay awake. They're getting closer to finals, so Prompto agrees to a few study dates, and then books it out of class. 

They're already waiting for him when he gets off the elevator. Prompto is so surprised, he nearly yells. 

"Hey! You ready?" 

"No!" Prompto startles as Gladio takes his bag and slings it over his own shoulder. "I didn't even get to change!" 

"You look cute," Noctis says. "The movie starts at five so we gotta' go  _now._ " 

"Apologies, Prompto. I did try to convince them otherwise." 

"You can't keep me from mechagodzilla any longer than you already have." 

Prompto laughs, and swings Noct's hand as they walk. 

"So what did you guys do today?" 

"Homework," Gladio and Noctis say together. 

"I had a presentation," Ignis tells. 

"How'd it go?" 

"Rather well, I believe. I had competent team members this time." 

"I did notice a distinct lack of pies." 

Ignis rolls his eyes, "You're not going to let that go, are you?" 

"No," Prompto laughs. "Ignis, there were so many fucking pies." 

"I'm aware." 

They stop at a crosswalk, and the sun is starting to set, so Ignis pauses to switch out his sunglasses for his typical lenses. The movie theater isn't far, but they might have to skip out on the popcorn if they want to make the commercials. 

"I'm gonna shove so much popcorn up my ass," Noctis says. 

Alright, looks like they're skipping the commercials. 

Prompto and Noctis are still swinging hands as they walk. Gladio grabs Noctis's other hand, and they have to walk a little wonky to fit on the sidewalk. 

"Hey, have you guys ever seen Hocus Pocus?" Prompto asks. 

"Oh my god  _yes._ " 

Noctis makes them hook arms, and it takes them a little longer to reach the theater, because they're too busy trying to do the witch walk. 

"Sorry," Ignis says, to a woman trying to walk past them. Ignis sighs, "You're not even doing it right." 

"Then how do you do it?!" 

"No." 

"Come on Iggy," Gladio prods.

Prompto flaps his arm. "The Gods gave me two hands." 

Ignis stops walking ahead, and physically sighs. He waits until they reach a wide part of the street, and then hooks his arm in Prompto's. 

"Right foot first," Ignis says. Gladio is the first one to trip, and they miss the first ten minutes of the movie. 

 

* * *

 

"-And then when he unhinged his jaw and turned into a hacksaw, holy  _shit."_

"Wig," Prompto says. 

"The script was, dare I say, lacking. But the acting was on par." 

"I liked when Godzilla threw an entire building at Mothra," Gladio says. 

"You would like that." 

"Paaaants!" Prompto cries, hopping on one leg as he tries to take off his jeans halfway in his bedroom doorway. Noctis follows him, jeans already in his hand. 

"What, we don't get to undress you?" Gladio teases. Prompto bites his cheek.

"Not tonight," Ignis says. "We still have class tomorrow." 

"Ugh."

Prompto wiggles into pajama pants, and changes his shirt before flopping on his bed. Ignis disappears into his shared bathroom, and Noctis crawls on his own bed, and starts thumbing through his phone. 

"Did you finish all your homework?" 

"Yeah," Noctis says. There's the sound of the freezer door opening and shutting, and Noctis calls, "If you eat my moose tracks I'm liable to kill you!" 

"Kay," Gladio replies, and you can hear the utensil drawer opening. Prompto snorts. 

Noctis flies out of bed, and there's the sound of muffled laughing and shouting. Something gets knocked over, and Prompto doesn't even want to know. 

He kinda' likes this part. He's never had a situation where he went from a  _'date'_ to — just living together again. It's odd and also sorta fun. 

"Prompto! Help!" 

He comes out of the bedroom, and sees Noctis trying his damnest to wrestle Gladio to the ground. He's losing pretty bad. 

"I need backup!" Noctis cries. 

Prompto laughs, "I got you buddy!" 

He hops on Gladio's back, and hooks his arms around his neck. Gladio hardly even sways. 

"You killed my father," Noctis feigns a lance in his hand. "Prepare to die." 

"You haven't even seen that movie," Gladio says. 

Noctis tries to football tackle him, but Gladio doesn't budge. 

"I have him in a headlock!" Prompto cries.

Gladio ducks suddenly, and Prompto goes flying up and over his right shoulder. As he rises, he grabs Noctis around the waist, and flings him over his left. 

Hence, Ignis enters the room shower-clean, and sees Noctis thrown one way, and Prompto thrown the other, kicking and screaming (and laughing, in Prompto's case). 

"It's the sooound of muuuusic," Gladio deadpans, and spins them. Noctis fakes a hurling noise, and Prompto is giggling so hard he's crying, all the blood rushing to his face. 

 "Don't tell me," Ignis mumbles, and grabs his laptop off the table, returning to his room. 

After enough kicking, Gladio bends down and sets them both on their feet. Prompto sways a little bit, and Noctis stumbles back on the couch.

"You okay?" Gladio laughs, and wipes the tear tracks off Prompto's cheeks. 

He laughs, "I'm good. You're friggin' strong, dude." 

"Hey, this was our second date, wasn't it?" Gladio brings his hand around to cup the back of his neck. "And I'm no cheater." 

You can almost hear the eyeroll from Noctis. 

Prompto grins, "So like, does that mean you’re gonna' kiss me? Or..." 

Gladio bends down and kisses him open-mouthed and scorching hot. Prompto unwillingly whines, but it's not his fault. He feels like he's been kicked in the gut; his eyes fly shut and he tries to grab for Gladio's arms so he has something to hold onto. 

"You're missin' it," Noctis calls. 

"No I'm not," Ignis says, suddenly in the doorway. 

Gladio starts to smile in the kiss, and pulls back long enough to bend down and pick Prompto up with an arm beneath his butt. 

"Woah!-" Prompto flails, but Gladio doesn't drop him. He kisses Prompto again, and Prompto melts like fuckin' butter. 

"Showoff," Noctis says. 

"This is like,  _the_ reason I work out," Gladio grins. "Well. This, and one other reason."

For once, they're at the same eye level, and fuck, he's gorgeous. He's really gorgeous. Gladio’s eyes are rich brown and shimmery black, and Prompto could just drool. 

He wants to ask what the scar on his face is from. But he runs his thumb along the shaved sides of his hair, and leans forwards to kiss him one more time. He loves the scratch of Gladio's beard; he smells and tastes and kisses so different from Noctis, and it's addictive. 

"Fuck, I cannot with you," Gladio says. He turns to Noctis, "Have you seen his freckles?" 

"That's what I was saying, dude. Couldn't you just die?" 

"Definitely," he says, and sets Prompto on his feet. 

"They keep popping up as I get older." Prompto looks to his arms, and his hands. "I need to start wearing sunscreen." 

"I love them," Noctis says. He opens his arms, which is Noctis Body Language for  _come here,_ so Prompto does. Gladio grabs the ice cream off the counter, and gets two more spoons, and they put on X-files until they fall asleep. Somehow, Prompto ends up in his own bed. 

 

  

* * *

 

Prompto fishes the marshmallows out of his cereal, and scrolls through his Instagram feed as he eats. He's cross-legged in the kitchen chair, and he opened the blinds this morning, so the sun is coming through the sliding window. 

It's not early at all. In fact, Noctis is already awake, playing on his phone on the couch. Nobody wakes up before noon on a Saturday, (besides Ignis, who rises at the same time like clockwork). 

Well, except today. The clock almost reads one, and he hasn't seen Gladio or Ignis. 

Hey, speak of the devil. Gladio comes out of the room, and scratches at his shoulder as he yawns. 

"Hey babe," Noctis greets. 

"Hey." Gladio opens the cabinet. 

"Morning!" Prompto smiles. "Or uh. Afternoon!" 

Gladio shoves an entire roll in his mouth. He ruffles Prompto's hair as he passes by, and clicks on the coffee pot. 

"How's Iggy?" 

"Late night. His deadline was at five this morning, and he barely made it," Gladio says. 

"Did you stay up with him?" 

"I dozed off here and there, but he definitely didn't. Be careful." 

Ignis comes out of the room. He's in flannel pajamas, and his hair is down, and his glasses are gone. Noctis immediately looks back to his phone, and Gladio steps out of his way. Its quiet as Ignis shuffles over to the pantry, so Prompto smiles, 

"Hi Iggy. How are you feeling?" 

Gladio tenses again, and Noctis's head snaps up. He looks between them, and Ignis slowly turns. Noctis looks about ready to run. He looks to Gladio and mouths,  _you didn't tell him?!_ And Gladio mouths back  _I did!_

Ignis blinks. He squints a little, and Prompto tips his head, "Iggy?" 

Ignis stares, and the cold look on his face slowly chips. 

"Ah, Prompto," he says. "Apologies, I misplaced my glasses. I went to sleep late, but I am lucky to have no class today." 

Ignis spoons out the coffee into the filter, and Noctis looks downright  _shocked._

"That's good," Prompto smiles. "We should go down to the coffee shop today. They're supposed to have new pastries." 

"Interesting. Perhaps I can learn something new." 

He pours in water through the filter, and returns to his bedroom, likely to look for his glasses. Prompto eats another spoonful of cereal. Gladio and Noctis stare at him, mouths open. 

"Wha'?" He chews. 

"How the  _fuck_ did you do that?" Noctis hisses. 

"I told you!" Gladio snaps. "This happened last time!" 

"I don't know what the big deal is."

"No no, listen to me." Noctis presses his hands together, and places his fingers under his chin. "The last time I spoke to Ignis after he pulled an all-nighter he almost broke my arm." 

"You're lying," Prompto laughs. 

"He’s really not."  

“You think I’m bad? Specs is like the monster from the black lagoon.”

Prompto squints.

“Hey Iggy?”

“Yes darling?” 

Prompto looks to the other two, and smirks before he says, “We should have breakfast for dinner tonight.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” Ignis says, passing back into the kitchen, now in glasses, and Gladio and Noct look to each other like they saw one of the Six.

"You guys are so full of crap," Prompto laughs. 

"I think you might be the Avatar," Noctis says. 

 

* * *

 

He wants to kiss Ignis. Prompto really, really, really wants to kiss Ignis. Like, every day, all the time, forever. 

But it hasn't happened yet, and Prompto isn't sure what he's doing wrong. 

 

He knows Noctis and Gladio are serious. A part of him still guards itself - a part of him wants to doubt - but they take his hand and kiss him good morning and snuggle him into the couch and they keep going out for food and dates and he  _knows_ they're serious. 

Ignis is a little different. Prompto worries that he agreed to all this just to make his lovers happy. 

But no, Prompto thinks. He remembers the pies and the hand in his hair and the fresh-cooked meals, and he knows Ignis likes him. Prompto is afraid to initiate, and Ignis respects his boundaries — so Prompto will just have to suck it up and ask. 

Gladio and Noctis are out for class today, so this is Prompto's golden opportunity. The problem is, he's scared shitless of the answer he'll get. 

Ignis is in his room, propped up in his bed, typing away on his laptop. Prompto still feels a little uneasy about going in their room, but definitely less so than before. The door is slightly ajar, so Prompto knocks on it a little before he pushes it open. 

"Come in," Ignis says. 

"Hi," Prompto smiles. Ignis lowers the top of his laptop and nods. 

"How are you?" 

"Good! Um, I was wondering if you wanted to run by the coffee place with me." 

"Sure. Allow me to finish this, and I'll be right there." 

"Cool," Prompto grins, and steps back into the living room. He nervously fiddles with his key, and straightens when Ignis steps out a few moments later. He's always in those button-downs, but it's winter now, and he has a scarf and gloves on, and Prompto can't focus at all. 

He holds out his hand a bit nervously, and Ignis gives him a half-smile, and threads their fingers together. 

"How is the sculpture coming along?" Ignis asks, shutting the door with his free hand. Prompto leads them towards the elevator, and says, 

"Well, after buying three-thousand straws, I'm only now realizing that I am  _still_ short." 

"Still? How is that possible?" 

"I don't have enough for the eyes!" Prompto cries. "I'm so lucky that we're allowed to store our projects in the lab, because if I had to haul that sucker home every week I'd probably cry." 

"I am eager to see it." 

"You shouldn't, I'm not very good." 

"So you say, but you are a good artist, Prompto." Ignis squeezes his hand. "I know it's not your chosen field, but do have some faith in yourself." 

Prompto relaxes, and walks a little  closer to him. 

It's a flat ten-minute walk to the shop. There isn't much of a line, so they order drinks, and sit at one of the barstools while they wait. 

Prompto wiggles around in the chair. He looks over, and Ignis bites his glove off so he can type something in his phone, and Prompto chews into his lip. 

He sighs. 

"Iggy?" 

"Yes?" He looks up. 

"Um." His entire train of thought derails. Like, off the tracks and into the mountainside. No survivors. 

"Are you alright?" Ignis asks. 

"I uh," Prompto fiddles with their receipt. "I don't know how to say this." Ignis waits patiently, and Prompto swishes the words around in his mouth. He settles, and looks up. "You actually like me, right?" 

Ignis stares, stunned. 

"Well of course." 

"I just. Want to make sure. That uh, this wasn't something they pressured you into." 

Ignis's eyebrows push together. 

"And why would you think that?" 

Well, it sounds stupid out loud, doesn't it? 

"When you guys are, um —" Prompto runs his tongue along his teeth, "—fooling around and stuff. You always pull them into your room. And you — you've never..." Jeez. Come on, man. 

"I've never kissed you?" Ignis tilts his head. Prompto nods. Ignis sighs, and pushes up his glasses. "Prompto my dear, I only wish not to scare you away. We ask a great deal from you, and I fear of overwhelming you so soon." 

"You won't scare me away," Prompto laughs. "I'm pretty —“ he makes a whip sound and motion. Ignis looks at him for a long moment, and then laughs lightly. 

"You always manage to surprise me. Is it not too much?" 

"Oh, it's alot, but I really like that." Prompto dangles his feet off the stool, and wiggles a little before meeting Ignis's eye again. "You guys don't have to slow down for me. I'll catch up." 

Ignis is looking at him so fondly, Prompto almost feels bad for doubting him. He smiles softly, and glances once around the coffee shop. 

"Then let's fix it, shall we?" 

"Huh?" 

Ignis grips beneath his chin, and leans over the short distance between the stools and kisses him straight on. He holds them there, close-lipped and soft, silhouetted by the shop window, and then pulls away. Prompto is left stunned and tingly, and he almost falls. 

"Much better," Ignis nods. 

"Wait," Prompto laughs, and pulls out his phone. He opens snapchat, "I'm sending this to Noct." 

He flips the camera around, and kisses Ignis one more time. Ignis looks over at the picture and nods, "Cute." He turns Prompto's face by the chin and kisses him quickly, "Once more, for the road." 

Prompto laughs, and Ignis wets his lower lip. 

"Quite sweet, I say." 

"Shut up," Prompto laughs. 

_"Number 32!"_

"Hey, that's us!" 

 

* * *

 

Everything is new. New hugs, new kisses, new dates and new movies. Prompto's focus is consumed by finals, but when it's not — he gets to escape into this world of  _new._

Prompto wishes he had more time. He knows he will soon — but finals are a week away, and Prompto is up to his ears in textbook work and dumb projects.  

They have another study marathon in the livingroom. They order takeout and make an explosion of papers, books, and pens. This time, however, Gladio lays his head in Prompto's lap and reads above his head, and Noctis conks out at the other end of the couch, and Ignis uses the peace and quiet to type a research paper with a demonic speed. Prompto isn't sure if he's  _prepared_ for his finals, but at least he can say he tried. 

"Come on babe," Noctis pulls him from the couch. "Bed time." 

"Why do I have to go?" Prompto laughs, standing. 

"Because," Noctis presses his hands to Prompto's stomach, and skims upwards. "I said so." 

"No," Ignis says, turning off the lights in the kitchen. "Prompto, you have a lab tomorrow. You two are not sleeping in the same bed." 

"Why not?!" 

"Because I have to  _tear_ you two apart in the morning," Ignis says, which is a valid point. He stands in his doorway, and beckons. "Get in here." 

Noctis patters over with a sigh, and disappears in their bedroom. Prompto sniffs, and prepares to go back to his own bed — but Noctis calls to him. 

"Where are you going?" 

"Um -" 

"Come on," Noctis says, and is gone once more. Prompto scrubs at his hair, and stops by the bathroom to brush his teeth. The lights are all out in the living room, and he feels his way towards the second bedroom. They still have a lamp on in here, but Ignis and Noctis are already in one bed. Noctis is on his phone, laying on his stomach, and Gladio is in the other bed, sitting up to read. 

"Hey," Gladio scoots over. "Cm'ere." 

"How are you still reading?" Prompto jokes. 

"I like to read," Gladio says simply. Prompto snuggles up to his side, and this is definitely way better than sleeping alone. 

"Gladio," Ignis calls. "Wrap it up." 

"Mmm." He dog-ears his page and sets his book on the side table. Ignis clicks off the lamp, and soon it's just the glow of their phones. 

"Come here, you," Gladio mumbles, and gets his arms around Prompto. He squishes close, and happily presses his face right in Gladio's chest. 

"I don't know how to tell you this and not sound creepy, but you smell so fucking good," Prompto says. Gladio's shoulder shakes with a silent laugh. 

"Thanks." Gladio noses in his hair. He drops his voice a little lower, even though Ignis and Noctis are still talking at the other side of the room.  "I really can't get enough of you. Can't wait until finals are over." 

"Me too. What do you have to submit for your Nutrition class?" 

"Another research paper. Yippee." 

Prompto snorts, and sneaks a hand around to Gladio's back. He traces over bare skin, and he can't  _feel_ his tattoos, but he knows they're there. Gladio has a scar beneath his shoulderblade, and Prompto had never noticed it before. He gently traces the muscle in his back, and he thinks Gladio might've shivered. 

"Did it hurt?" Prompto whispers. 

"My tattoo?" 

"Yeah." 

"Sort of. The coloring was the worst of it." 

"Why did you decide on such a big tattoo?" 

"It's a — uh. Family tradition." 

Prompto's eyes widen. 

"Like the mafia." 

Gladio laughs, and then turns his face to the pillow to quiet himself. Google: how is a guy this big so fucking cute?

"No. Sort of? My family definitely isn't in the mafia." 

"Suuure," Prompto hums. 

"Go to sleep," Gladio snickers, and kisses his hair. That's not really a hard thing to ask, because it's cold in their apartment and Gladio is like a human furnace. He ends up twisting around in his arms, so his back is to Gladio's chest, and he passes out hard. 

It’s something Prompto could get used to.


	6. Chapter 6

It's quiet in the apartment during finals.

Everyone's a little stressed (in that Hey You Wanna See a Really Cool Trick Watch Me Have A Meltdown On Command kind of way) but it'll pass soon, and Prompto is  _really_ looking forward to the four-week break. Like, really really.

Prompto raises his phone a little higher, and tries to get a good signal. The picture cuts in and out, but he can still hear his aunt's voice in his headphones. 

_"Are you sure? The kids would love to see you."_

"Yeah," Prompto pops a grape in his mouth, and perches at the corner lunch table. "You guys already scrape together my tuition every month, I'm not making you guys pay for plane tickets." 

_"I know - but I don't want you to be lonely, dear."_

"I won't," Prompto laughs. "My roommates are staying during the break too." 

_"Really? What about their families?"_

"I dunno'. They just said they were staying." 

_"Well, make sure you do something fun, okay?  Let us know if you need anything."_

"I will." Prompto checks the time, "Alright, my final is in a few minutes so I gotta' go." 

_"Oh! Right! Kick ass, okay bud?"_

"I will!" Prompto laughs, "Love you Mami." 

_"Ta-Ta."_

The call hangs up, and Prompto sets down his phone. It's his last final, and it’s the worst one. But after this, he's free.  _Free!_

_No more clay forever!_

Prompto begins to gather up his things from the student lounge, when he hears someone call his name. 

"Prompto!" 

He stops. 

_Ugh, come on —_

Prompto turns, and sees Ravus crossing the room. He waves, and Prompto's gut reaction is to fucking  _run -_

But he hesitates.

No.

Prompto stands his ground.  _No more running._

"Ravus," Prompto nods, sliding his textbook in his bag. 

"Jeez, you're a hard man to track down, you know?" Ravus hovers, hand gripping the spare chair as he catches his breath. "Did you change your number? I can't reach your phone anymore." 

No, Prompto just blocked him on every social media site known to man. 

"What do you want?" Prompto asks, as politely as he can manage. 

"I wanna' know why you keep ignoring me," Ravus huffs. "I thought we were friends." 

Prompto sets his jaw, and feels his chest burn in anger. 

"You're really going to stand there and ask me that question?" 

"What?" 

Prompto checks to make sure the lounge is mostly empty before he makes a scene. 

"You publicly humiliated me," Prompto says, zipping up his bag. 

"What are you even..." Ravus pauses. He makes a face, "Wait, you can't be talking about—“

Prompto stands, fuming, "What else would I be talking about?"

"You were serious?" 

"Of  _course_ I was serious!" Prompto hisses. "I was in love with you." 

Ravus grits his teeth, and he stands to hover over him, "Look, I don't know how your feelings are my fault." 

"That's not even the problem, Ravus! You had everyone  _watch_ while I stood there like an — an idiot!" Prompto jabs his finger in his chest, "All you had to say was  _Sorry Prompto, I don't like you that way-_  but no –“

"I was going to! I didn't ask for everyone to come!” 

"But they found out somehow, right?" Prompto slings his bag over his shoulder, and glares at him, dead forward. "You stood there and did  _nothing_. As of then, you shit all over whatever friendship we had, and you are dead to me." 

Prompto turns to walk away, but Ravus grabs his shoulder and rips him back.

“What about me, huh? I got just as much shit as you did-“

“Don’t touch me,” Prompto snaps. “Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me.”

He walks away, and Ravus yells some very mean words, and Prompto doesn’t care if people are staring. He just doesn’t care.

 

* * *

 

Prompto isn’t really in the best mood after class. He did  _okay_ on the presentation of his sculpture, so his grade is all up to the gods now — but he just can’t shake the icky feeling from earlier. His stomach is still churning, and he just doesn’t want to think about Ravus right now.

The elevator is broken in their apartment building, of course. Prompto takes the stairs, and fumbles in jamming his key in the door.

He wedges it open, and pauses in the doorway.

It’s always something, isn’t it?

For a moment he’s convinced he just waltzed into the wrong apartment – but Noctis’s head appears, and he grins,

“Prompto!”

The entire living room has been transformed into a giant maze of blankets and pillows. It looks like the ultimate pillowfort you’d see on Buzzfeed. They’ve made supports out of chairs and, it looks like the couch has been entirely dismantled. The coffee table is just gone.

“We jacked your lights, I hope you don’t mind,” Gladio says, crawled over the couch to try and plug in a strip. “I’ll hang them back up for you later.” He plugs in the fairy lights, and suddenly the entire rim is lit.

“How was your final?” Ignis asks. He’s in the kitchen, and there’s at least three different types of whiskey lined up on the counter. He wipes his hands off, and heads Prompto’s way. “Prompto?”

“What is happening?” Prompto laughs, numbly sliding his backpack to the ground. Ignis shuts the door behind him, and Prompto turns his head a little to meet him for a peck.

“A celebration dude, get with the program,” Noctis says, using a rubberband to tie a blanket to a chair leg.

“This is amazing! All three of you did this?”

“It was my idea. Ignis conceptualized the best use of our furniture, and Gladio did most of the heavy lifting.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Get comfy bro, we’re about to have the sickest Disney marathon of all time.”

Prompto has to step around pillows and blankets to get to his room. He hangs up his jacket and comes back out in shorts. Ignis is running the blender now, and there is a hilarious amount of ice cream now stacked on the counter.

Prompto crosses the war zone and sneaks behind Ignis. He wraps his arms around him, and leans up on his toes to see over his shoulder.

“What are you making?”

Ignis stops running the blender, and pours out a small sample.

“Whiskey milkshakes. I’m attempting to produce the best alcohol-to-ice cream amalgamation.”

He sips it, and then passes the cup over his shoulder to Prompto. He tests it and swallows thickly.

“Oh man. More ice cream.”

“Agreed.”

“Alright Prom, come check this out,” Noctis says. Prompto steps over some pillows, and Noctis pops out of the ‘door’. “Welcome to Fort Fucktown. I’m the mayor – please, come in.”

Prompto gets on his knees, laughing.

“Wow Mr. Mayor. This is-“ it’s actually amazing. Prompto could probably stand up if he wanted to. Gladio definitely couldn’t, but they’ve built tent-like supports in the middle, and the T.V. is already running Lilo & Stitch. The fairy lights hang a little haphazardly, but it’s so pretty, Prompto snaps a picture with his phone and sets it aside.

“Cool huh?” Noctis flops back. There’s pillows all over the floor, and oh, there’s where the couch cushions went. “This is Blanket Boulevard. And over there is Entertainment Lane.”

“Couldn’t come up with anything that rhymes with E, huh?”

“Lose the attitude, Mr. Citizen, or you’ll be sleeping on Couch Center.”

The door opens, and Gladio crawls in, “This is the weirdest roleplaying I’ve ever seen.”

Noctis sits back on his heels and crosses his arms playfully, “Excuse me, sir. Where are your papers? I need to see your visa.”

Gladio rolls his eyes and shoves Noctis by the shoulder. He flops over on the pillows and laughs.

“Hey Prom,” Gladio greets, finally, grabbing his neck and pressing a wet kiss to his cheek.

“Hahaha- ew!!”

Gladio hacks and pretends to spit in his mouth, and Prompto squirms, laughing and screeching.

The door opens once more, and Ignis peeks in. They pause.

“I believe I’ve perfected the recipe,” he says. He hands two milkshakes to Gladio, who takes them and passes them over. Ignis comes back with two more, and Prompto is super giggly, because there’s something cute about someone so reserved and proper crawling through a pillow fort with milkshakes.

“Fuck me,” Gladio sips. “This is great.”

“Good job Specs.”

“Thank you love.”

Noctis works on switching the movie, and Ignis stretches out, shoulder leaning against Gladio.

“You never answered my question, Prompto.” Ignis says.

“Ah, sorry! What was it?”

“I asked about your exam.”

“Oh – it was fine. The test part was easy, it was the presentation that I’m worried about. It’s almost half my grade.”

“You’re quite likeable, and your sculpture was stunning, don’t worry yourself.”

Prompto smiles, “Thanks Iggy.”

“Alright-“ Noctis says, pressing play on  _Mulan_ , “-break starts  _now._ ”

“I have cards,” Gladio says.

“Let’s do it!”

 

They sit in a circle and play Spades. The fort is roomy, but they squish together anyways. Noctis and Gladio still find a way to get competitive over a  _card game,_ and soon Prompto is laughing so hard, he forgets about his not-so-great day.

The chorus of  _Be A Man_ comes on, and the card game is abandoned. Gladio shoves the cards off to the side, along with the empty milkshake cups, and Prompto is warm and fuzzy for a multitude of reasons.

For real, Prompto is so comfortable he could die. Ignis is on his left, and Noctis is on his right, and it’s a sexy sandwich of champions. Ignis’s hand rests on his knee, and Noctis has flopped his head on his shoulder – and Prompto  _belongs._ He really belongs.

One movie ends, and another begins. Ignis and Gladio are mumbling to each other quietly, but Prompto is totally consumed in the movie.

Partway through, he notices fingers skimming up his inner wrist. They run along his arm, feel inside his elbow, and fall back to his hand feather light and velvet soft. Noctis is lazily tracing patterns into his palm, and it makes Prompto smile. He turns and kisses the top of Noct’s head.

It’s almost like Noctis was waiting –because he instantly turns his nose, and kisses hot against the side of his neck. Prompto gasps, curling against him, and the hand Ignis had on his knee is suddenly  _way_ higher than it was before.

“Sooo,” Noctis drawls. “Exams are over.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Would you be mad if we told you this was a super-elaborate plan to get you naked.”

Prompto inhales, and his brain has already shut off hours ago, so he says, “I wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

Gladio snorts, and Ignis says, “Well – we wanted to  _discuss_ it with you first.”

Noctis presses his teeth lower into his throat, and Prompto keeps a groan behind his tongue. He blinks, the fuzziness of the fairy lights blurring for a moment.

“Okay.”

Gladio starts, “We wanted to do this together – but if you’d rather be with just one of us first, that’s cool too.”

“Some people find it overwhelming,” Ignis explains.

“I have nooo problem with any of this,” Prompto says. “Nope. Nada, nothin’.”

“Dope,” Noctis says, and turns to straddle one of his thighs. Prompto nearly sways with his weight, but a hand presses to his upper back.

“I gotcha’,” Gladio says. He slips behind him, and Noctis shoves his tongue in his mouth, and Prompto’s head is spinning in the best way ever.

Ignis was right. It is overwhelming to have everyone looking at him; but it’s more of a breathless oversensitivity than anything remotely negative.

He wants to look at  _them_ too _._ Prompto tries to get his eyes open enough to see Noct’s face – but Noctis kisses hard, and Prompto squeezes his eyes shut and sounds off.

“May I?” Ignis asks, pulling at Prompto’s shirt. He flushes, and his instinct is to say  _no –_ but he knows they won’t make fun of him.

“Okay.”

Ignis lifts it up and over his head, and Noctis wads up his own shirt and tosses it away.

“Ugh yes,” Noct mumbles, and bends to bite into his collarbones. Prompto jerks a little, curling a hand in his hair. Soft soft soft.

“Prompto dear,” Ignis says, drawing his attention. “Please let us know if you don’t like something.”

“Ah, I will.”

“Specs, do the thing,” Noctis says, into Prompto’s shoulder.

“What thing?”

“This thing,” Ignis says, and kisses him deep.

It’s not particularly dirty, but there’s something about the cleverness of Ignis’s mouth that just feels filthy. He drags a finger up beneath Prompto’s chin, and licks across his bottom lip in a slow, tantalizing way. Prompto downright moans, and Noctis laughs, sitting back to watch.

“God they’re hot together,” Gladio says.

“A-fuckin’-greed.”

Ignis slides his hand up the thigh that Noctis isn’t sitting on, and pushes up his shorts way into his hip. Prompto makes a happy sound.

“What a tart,” Ignis mumbles, pulling back. “We’ll have fun with you.”

“Hey, mind if we move you a bit?” Gladio asks.

“Dude, you could punch me in the face right now and I’d probably be into it.”

That earns him three laughs, and it eases the tension a little bit. Noctis sits off him, and Gladio hums,

“Come here.”

He pulls Prompto backwards into his lap. Gladio leans back up against the foot of the couch, and Prompto sets a hand on both of his thighs to steady himself.

“I’ve had this planned out for weeks, sooo – sorry, but I’m gonna’ blow you,” Noctis says, crawling forwards on his knees.

“Fuck,” Prompto whispers. Gladio laughs by his ear, and Prompto repeats,  _“Fuck._ ”

“You’re so tiny,” Gladio mumbles, and runs his hands up Prompto’s front. He arches, (naturally), and Noctis digs his fingers into the elastic of his shorts.

“Please?”

“And thank you,” Prompto adds. Noctis yanks, and his cock flops up his stomach, hard – no shit. Prompto looks away, red crawling down his neck.

“Err-“

“Oh my god my mouth is watering,” Noctis says. He spreads Prompto’s legs, and bends down – teeth immediately sinking for his thigh. Prompto squirms, and looks up at the blanket-roof.  

“Relax,” Gladio hums.

Prompto isn’t sure how he’s supposed to do that. Ignis is sitting by quietly, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling them to his forearms, and Noctis grabs the bottom of his cock and licks across the head, and Prompto has no idea where to look.

A hand grabs his chin.

“Watch him,” Ignis says, smooth. Prompto looks down, and Noctis is staring right at him, waiting.

Once he has Prompto’s attention, Noctis slides him into his mouth, tongue flat – and Prompto squeezes his eyes shut. Ignis pets along his jaw.

“Watch, darling. He likes it.”

Prompto swallows, and meets his eye again. Noctis’s eyes are jet blue, pupils narrowed, and he pulls back to wet his lips, before bobbing down and swallowing, and Prompto inhales, head knocking back.

Ignis curls up at Gladio’s side, head on his shoulder, and hums, “That’s it, love. Keep him still.”

“I’ve got him,” Gladio says, and digs his hands into Prompto’s hips – and Prompto fucking  _moans._

“Shit –“ Prompto jerks, squirming. Noctis’s eyes shine over, and he inhales through his nose before swallowing him down. Prompto cries, hands slapping to Gladio’s knees so he won’t pull on Noct’s hair. He breathes his name, and Noctis makes a sound in his throat.

“Tell him how you feel,” Gladio murmers. “He’s into it, huh babe?”

Noctis hums.

“Ah, I-“ Prompto stutters, because Noctis does something with his tongue that makes him go cross eyed. “Fuck.”

Ignis snorts. He reaches forwards and yanks Prompto’s thigh, spreading his legs a little wider, and he feels so hot, his skin might burn.

“Come on,” Gladio nudges him, with his nose. His beard scratches his skin, and Prompto shivers.

“It’s good –“ Prompto starts, out of breath. “I really –  _fuck._ ”

Show’s gonna’ be over real soon. Prompto has had his dick sucked before, but Noctis is working his hand and meeting his eye and Noctis somehow manages to look like  _he’s_ the one getting off. Six, seven eight nine ten-

“He’s putting on quite the show,” Ignis says. “He must be rather taken with you.”

Prompto whines.

“I get front-row next time,” Gladio says. Noctis works his throat and Prompto jerks; Gladio squeezes, and Prompto goes slack.

“Gods, your fuckin’ hands,” Prompto curses.

“Interesting,” Ignis says. 

Noctis pops off, and uses his free hand to palm between his legs.

“Come on Prom,” Noctis pants. He licks back down, lips stretching, and Prompto twists and squirms. He tenses, breath catching, and –

“Swallow it,” Ignis commands, tone level.

Prompto comes, and Noctis squeezes into Prompto’s thigh, keeping him steady while he presses his nose to his navel and swallows.

It’s a hot knife down his back; Prompto arches, and bites into his lip until it burns. His toes curl and his skin tingles, and he’s not sure if he’ll ever catch his breath again. He’s not responsible for whatever sound he makes.

Gladio curses, and Noctis pulls off when Prompto gets sensitive.

Ignis yanks Noctis up roughly by the shoulder. Noctis seems to already be with the program, because he parts his lips before Ignis can even kiss him. Ignis licks into his mouth like he  _needs_ it, and Prompto thinks he might pass out.

Ignis pulls back and breathes, “Beautifully done.”

“Nice job baby,” Gladio says, and Noctis hums happily.

“He tastes fucking awesome.”

“I think my brain just melted out of my ears,” Prompto whispers.

“You did good,” Gladio hums, skimming down the outside of his thighs, and  _oh,_ okay. Prompto gets the praise thing now. He really gets it. Gladio shifts his weight a little, and asks, “Hey, do you mind if Iggy and I…”

“Huh?” Prompto blinks. Gladio is rock hard against his lower back.  _“Oh._ Yes.  _Yes._ ”

He crawls out of Gladio’s lap, and Noctis pulls him aside, tacking him into the pillows.

_“Oof.”_

“This’ll be fun, promise,” Noctis says, squeezing him close. “Watch.”

Gladio shifts, drawing his legs up with his feet flat on the floor, and Ignis crawls right into his lap, hand already undoing his belt one-handed.

Oh jeez. Prompto can and will get hard again. He turns, nose brushing Noctis’s.

“What about you?”

“I’m good,” Noctis says. He takes his hand, and brings it to feel beneath the waistband of his boxers. “See?”

Prompto’s fingers come out sticky, so he licks them clean. Noctis looks at him wide eyed, and then cries,  _“Yes!_  We totally scored, guys.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Gladio winks. Ignis holds a hand at his shoulder and grinds into his lap, still in jeans, and Gladio’s head rolls back on his shoulders.

Noctis sleepily pets across his chest, but Prompto can’t look away – Gladio unbuttons the top half of Ignis’s shirt, and gets it mostly down his shoulders before Ignis has their pants shoved open. He spits once in his hand, and grips them both, and –

“Shit,” Prompto breathes.

“I know.”

It’s been a really long time since Prompto’s been fucked by a guy, but by the gods. Gladio and Ignis could  _both_  tear in him two, and Prompto would thank them for it.

Gladio has bigger hands, so he takes over. Ignis digs his fingers in Gladio’s hair and yanks – and Gladio moans  _low._  He bites Ignis’s bottom lip and pulls, and Ignis comes first, shirt gathered in the crooks of his arms, jeans by his thighs, glasses pushed up and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Fort Fucktown,” Prompto whispers. “I’m an idiot.”

Noctis laughs.

 

* * *

 

 It feels like another wall comes down. 

Prompto knows this, because he comes out of the shower, and sees Noctis butt naked, kissing Gladio for filth on one of the beds.  

"Hey," Noctis says, one hand on Gladio's shoulder, the other between his legs. 

"Well good morning to me," Prompto says, looking for pants. 

"Get used to it," Ignis calls. 

"Is this what I was missing out on?" 

"Mostly." 

They don't do jack shit for the first few days. It's movies and dinner and sometimes takeout when Ignis is too tired to move. They spend  _so_ much time together, but Prompto never tires of them. Not even once. He hopes they feel the same way. 

"Guys, I think we're kinda' lame," Gladio says, coffee in hand. He's shirtless, standing against the kitchen counter, and he looks like he's in a porno. Prompto has never seen him sleep in a shirt, but, there’d be too many (3) written complaints if he did. 

"Why do you say that?" Ignis asks. 

"Uno," Noctis says. 

"You do  _not,_ " Prompto hisses. Noctis holds up his card and wiggles his eyebrows.

"Do you guys want to go to a party?" 

"No," Noctis, Ignis, and Prompto say together, from the floor. 

Gladio gestures, "I rest my case." 

"To be embarrassingly drunk around college associates is hardly my idea of a good time," Ignis says. Prompto bought him a green headband to match yesterday, so they all look like middle-school girls at a sleepover, and it's amazing. 

"See? Lame." 

"You're never going to enter the headband club with that attitude," Prompto says, and slams down a draw four. 

Noctis points at Ignis and laughs, "Ha!" 

"Oh, but you see my sweet darling," Ignis sets down another draw four, "don't count your chickens before they've hatched." 

 _"Fuck._ " 

Prompto loudly counts to eight as he deals Noctis his cards, and Noctis takes them in a huff. 

"Baby, no one is stopping you from going to a party," Ignis says. 

Gladio rolls his eyes, "Well I don't want to go without you guys."

"What if we go out dancing?" Prompto suggests.

“Like a club?”

"I'm game," Noctis says. 

"I suppose," Ignis says. "But no mixing drinks. I won't hold your hair when you wretch up your stomach." 

Gladio looks excited to actually leave the apartment. He’s an Aries to a fault, so he undoubtably runs off of the energy of other people — and when they get to the club, he really comes to life. There’s all these sexy, half naked people, and Gladio somehow manages to outshine them all. He schmoozes the bouncer, and gets them in without any issues.

Prompto tried to dress for the venue. He has these really expensive jeans that are ripped to all hell, (and they actually give him an ass), but in comparison to everyone else, he might as well worn a burlap sack. Noctis has bracelets and earrings and a cut up t-shirt, and he looks  _hot._

The music is already loud when they get there. Prompto is downfor that. Gladio and Ignis head to the bar, and Noctis pulls Prompto straight to the dancefloor. 

"I didn't think you liked to dance!" Prompto laughs, over the music. 

"It's fun when nobody's watching you," Noctis says. "Come on — let's push to the front." 

There's a DJ on a raised platform. There's smoke machines and flashing lights, and Prompto knows it'll give him a migraine in an hour, but it's fun for now. There’s so many people, Prompto has to wait for the strobe lights to see where he’s going. Noctis is so cute; arms above his head, rings on his fingers, eyes closed.

Hands grab his waist, and Prompto jerks around, ready to break someone's nose, but it's just Gladio. 

"Sorry!" Gladio laughs. His breath smells like alcohol already. "I found you guys." 

"Where's Iggy?" 

"Here," Ignis says. Prompto expects him to be stiff and awkward, but Noctis grabs around his neck, and Ignis is surprisingly fluid. His hair is half-falling in his face, and the top button of his shirt is undone, and there's definitely a few twinks eyeing Noctis with envy. 

Gladio dances behind him, keeping his hands where they were — so Prompto playfully grinds back against him, and laughs when he curses. They dance until their feet hurt, until their hair is undone, until they've shed down to their last layers, jackets tied at their waist. Ignis is probably sober by then, but Noctis drives home just to be safe. Gladio pulls Prompto into his lap, which is very un-safe by car rules, but Prompto is kinda hot under his skin, and Gladio’s tongue tastes great in his mouth. 

When the door to the apartment shuts, Gladio hoists Prompto by his thighs, and holds him against the wall. 

"Have your social fix?" Prompto teases, voice cracking when Gladio kisses into his collar. 

"Ugh, I love watching you guys," Gladio says. "Fuck me, I have the sexiest partners in the world." 

"Hey Iggy, if you could do that thing you were doing before-" Noctis starts, and Ignis presses a hand at his lower back, and slams their hips together, "-yeah, that." 

Prompto pets into his hair, and tips his chin up to Gladio can bite the skin of his throat. He sucks hard and pulls back, and Prompto knows it’ll bruise by tonight. His beard scratches his skin, and Prompto gets goosebumps from it.

"Gladio, I'm gonna' beg here," Prompto pants, fingers digging into his spine. "You have to fuck my mouth. My jaw aches just thinking about it." 

"Six," Gladio curses.

"Wait-" Ignis grabs Noctis by the hips, and stills him. "We are watching this." 

"Oh hell yeah." 

And that's how Prompto ends up on his knees, gripped by the hair, drooling all over himself. 

"I don't want to hurt him," Gladio says, and he sounds pained, almost out of breath, and Prompto has never been so proud of himself. 

"You won't," Noctis says. 

Prompto hums.

Gladio hesitates, but eventually snaps his hips forwards, and the force nearly has Prompto's head popping off his shoulders. It's  _awesome._

The more he thrusts, the more Prompto loses himself, throat slackening, fingers going lax where they're hooked into his beltloops. His throat burns, and his eyes are watering so bad he's crying, but Gladio's hand is steady at the back of his head and oh how he's  _craved this._

Noctis makes a sound behind him, and Prompto wishes he could turn his head and see what Ignis is doing to him. 

"How is he?" Ignis teases. 

"Shut up," Gladio snaps, and Prompto moans again. He gags a little, and his jaw hurts. Gladio groans above him, and he sounds close, so Prompto taps his hip. Gladio thrusts forwards, and Prompto taps again. 

"Gladio-" Ignis starts, and Gladio startles, pulling back. 

"Sorry." 

"Come on my face," Prompto croaks. 

"Oh my  _god._ " 

 

* * *

 

 

“Please?”

“No.” 

"Gladio-" 

"No." 

"Fine, then move over," Noctis snaps. Prompto wiggles, and Noctis slides in next to him. It's a bit of a squeeze, but they fit. "Come on Iggy." 

"We will break that bed," Ignis says wearily.

"Here," Prompto rolls, so he's laying more across Gladio. It frees up a couple inches. "We can fit!" 

"You are going to wake up horribly sore," Ignis says, but climbs in next to Noctis. The springboard squeaks a little as they move; Noctis lays on Ignis, face down, and uses Iggy’s forehead to brace his arm so he can play on his phone. 

"Honestly—“ Ignis scoffs. He pokes in Noctis's armpit, and Noctis pulls on his hair. 

"Ow!" 

"Quit it." 

"Behave," Gladio teases. 

"Shut up." 

"Hey, we get along, don't we Gladio?" Prompto grins. 

"Like pals." 

"That's because Noctis just rawed your throat into next Tuesday," Noctis says. He's not wrong, Prompto kinda' sounds like he swallowed a frog. 

"Are you jealous?" Prompto teases. 

"No," Noctis rolls, ignoring the grunt from Ignis. "You're amazing." 

Prompto grins, and leans over to kiss him. It's sweet and long and Noctis tastes like toothpaste. Noctis can kiss silver-tongued and jet quick, or slow going and lazy, and Prompto lives for both. Prompto sucks on his bottom lip, and feels Gladio's chest rumble, already snoring. 

Noctis puffs a laugh through his nose. They pop apart. 

"What a cuck. He gets off and he's out like a light." 

Prompto sets his head on Gladio's shoulder and hums. 

"What should we do tomorrow?" 

"We could go by that art museum you were telling us about," Noctis says, dropping his voice. 

"I think that would be rather fun. The ancient art exhibit sounds quite interesting." 

"I'm paying," Prompto smiles. 

"Uh, no you're not." 

"Yes I am I'll fight you." 

"Prom," Gladio mumbles, squeezing him. Prompto laughs, and drops his voice to a whisper. 

"I'm paying." 

"We'll discuss it tomorrow," Ignis says. It quiets down enough to hear the street traffic outside. Gladio's breathing is heavy, and Prompto can feel Noctis nodding off next to him. It's not a conventional happiness, but it's one Prompto holds close. 

 

* * *

 

He wakes up, and the bed is empty. Prompto squints against the sunlight, and looks around the room. Ignis's bed is made, and some of Gladio's clothes are on the floor, but nothing else is out of order. Prompto opens one eye, looking for his phone. He thinks he left it in the other room. 

Prompto yawns, and stretches. He lays still for a moment, and realizes that there is mumbled talking coming from the living room. Man, Prompto must've slept in super late. 

He slips off the bed, and steadies himself. He's not sure whose shirt he's wearing, but his pants are definitely gone. Prompto yawns again, and pushes open the bedroom door. 

Ignis, Gladio, and Noctis are standing in the middle of the living room. Noctis has his arms folded, looking at the floor, and Gladio and Ignis look rigid and stiff. 

"...Hey?" Prompto blinks. 

Ignis turns, and the mood is — bad.  

"Good morning." 

"Is everything okay?" 

Gladio scratches his beard. Noctis won't look him in the eye. Prompto's stomach sinks a little. Ignis looks to them, and sighs. 

"We're fine. But..." 

"We have to go back home," Gladio says outright. Prompto stares, confused, and Ignis interjects. 

"Just for a few days. Something's... happened. I'm so sorry Prompto, we really did plan on staying here for break." 

Prompto frowns, "Oh jeez — is there anything I can do?" 

"No." Noctis snaps. He finally looks at Prompto, and melts, uncrossing his arms. "Prom, I'm so sorry. This was supposed to be our time together." 

"If you need to go home to your families, that's more important," Prompto says. He doesn't know what would need  _all_ of them to go home, but it's obvious that Prompto isn't invited. From the look on Noctis's face, it doesn't look like a good thing. 

Ignis approaches him, and gently places his hands on his shoulders. 

"We will be back in three days." 

Prompto laughs, "I can take care of myself. I haven't died yet." 

"Not my point," Ignis smiles, and fixes his hair. "We will miss you greatly." 

"When are you leaving?" 

"As soon as we can pack our bags." 

Prompto tries to swallow the disappointment. He leans up and kisses Ignis's cheek, falling back on his feet. 

"I'm looking forward to that museum date." 

"Make sure you lock the doors at night," Gladio says. Prompto laughs. Gladio pats his butt as he walks by, "I'm dead serious." 

"Oh no, my knights aren't here to protect me," Prompto flops back on the couch. "Whatever will I do." 

The three of them share a look; Noctis ducks off into the room, and Ignis nods to Prompto. 

"Three days." 

 

* * *

 

 

It's quiet after they leave. Prompto enjoys it for the first few hours, but by nighttime, he's lonely already. Ignis had leftovers in the fridge, so he microwaves a roast, and watches trash T.V. at the coffee table. He spends most of his day on his phone, scrolling through social media and fucking around in general. There are worse ways to spend the evening, he supposes. 

Waking up alone the next day sucks. He decides to go out and take pictures; hat on, scarf around his nose, but his fingers get cold, and after an hour he ducks into a ramen place, and spends more money on food than he should. 

It's winter break. Prompto should be relaxed, but he's distraught with worry. He hopes they're okay. He hopes their families are okay. 

Prompto wants to ask questions. He always does — and he learns, every day. Gladio has a sister. Ignis was adopted. Noctis loves fishing. There's so many small things about them that Prompto has come to learn; but then...stuff like this happens, and Prompto is easily reminded of his place. 

He's not their childhood friend. 

Prompto calls Cindy, and hangs out at her place until the afternoon. Her girlfriend is nice; really pretty, and blonde too! He walks home later that evening, and returns to an empty apartment. 

His phone buzzes, and Prompto realizes that he has some missed texts. 

 

GLADIO^^

>  _made it back home, miss you, xx_

 

IGNIS B-)

>   _Do not forget about the leftovers in the fridge._

 

NOCT <3333333

>  _IT SUCKS HERE WE MSIS U_

 

Prompto laughs, and texts back: 

_I hung out with cindy today!!!!!! ill see u guys friday < _

 

He pockets his phone, and tries to figure out what to do until he goes to bed. 

 

* * *

 

Prompto is addicted to the coffee shop donuts. It's seriously his heroin, so he makes the walk around four in the afternoon. Unfortunately, the sun is already down, because winter is still a thing that Prompto keeps forgetting about. 

From the sounds of it, whatever it was that happened got wrapped up quickly, and the three of them are coming back early. Prompto told them to spend time with their families, and not to rush back too soon. He's not sure if they took his advice, but Prompto is happy either way. 

He called and talked to his aunt for most of the day. Prompto was tempted to go out and buy new boots (his current ones are worn to hell), but he'll wait for Ignis, because Iggy likes that kind of stuff. 

Prompto shoves the rest of the donut in his mouth, and hums along to the music in his earbuds. Campus is pretty deserted during break. There's not even a whole ton of street traffic. 

Something flashes in one of the street lights. He hears a car, and steps a little further from the street out of habit. He continues to hum, hands in his pockets. 

The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. Prompto pauses. He looks around — he’s completely alone. No cars, nothing. 

Prompto continues to walk. He could've sworn he heard a —

Something yanks him by the back of his hood. Prompto jerks, his phone falling out of his hand, and he yelps when he's grabbed by the neck. 

A person in a solid black mask steps into view. Prompto elbows back, but someone catches his arms, and slaps a hand over his mouth. Prompto's heart jerks into panic mode. 

A man holds up a photo. 

"Is that him?" 

One of the masked men leans forwards, and the guy holding his jaw tips his head to the side. 

"Yeah, looks like it. Throw him in the van." 

_Oh, fuck no._

Prompto steps on the guys foot, jams the heel of his hand up his nose, and runs like hell. 

 _"Get him!_ " 

Prompto shouts, turning back towards the coffee shop, but he's grabbed back by the arm, and stopped by two more men. They go for his arms; Prompto nails a guy in the throat, and gets clocked across the face for it.

Oh  _hell_  that hurts; that was definitely not a fist. Prompto sees blood, and gets his arms yanked behind his back. 

“No!-“

"Six, fuckin' gag him!"

Prompto screams, but they shove a rag in his mouth, and two  _more_ appear. There's too many to fight off. They haul him up kicking; Prompto tries to spit out the gag, but they hit him again, and he sags. 

A van pulls up, and the door slides open. 

_Oh god no, oh god no —_

Nobody's here. How is  _nobody_ here? No cars, no people — dead, nothing, Prompto is going to be kidnapped, and nobody will ever know. His vision is blurring, but hell, Prompto  _fights._ There's a roaring in his ears, a loud crashing sound, and screaming that echoes off the empty street. 

He's dropped to the ground. 

"Fuck!" 

Shoes scuffle, and someone nearly steps on his knee. Prompto tucks and rolls, ripping out the gag and preparing to run; but he looks back, and freezes. 

Gladio. Gladio is here.

He decks a guy so hard, the mask flies off, and half his teeth punch in. The adrenaline is kicking so hard, Prompto can't even feel the pain in his head. He scrambles to his feet, but he's grabbed again, and shoved to the side. 

"Stay back!" Ignis shouts. Prompto startles, and Ignis roundhouse kicks a guy right in the jaw. A second dude comes running with a knife, and Prompto shouts. 

"Look out!" 

But Ignis disarms him like he's fucking  _James Bond._ He flips the knife around in his hand, kicks the guy straight in the chest, and throws the knife, nailing another man in the back. Prompto's jaw drops. 

Gladio is a demonic fury from hell. He grabs a dude by the collar, hauls him up and over his shoulder, and drives him straight into the ground. He headbutts the last guy, and the van goes speeding off. 

"Fuck!" Gladio shouts. "Did you get that plate?" 

"Yes," Ignis grits. He turns to Prompto, and immediately grabs for his face. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah," Prompto exhales, dazed. 

Ignis tips Prompto's head, looks at the gash along his temple, and  _seethes._

 _“_ Bloody _fucking_ hell _—_ Gladio, he’s injured. _“_

A masked man groans, still coherent, and Gladio steps on his chest and rips the mask off him. Prompto thinks he might actually be going into shock. 

"Take him back," Gladio growls, and Prompto has never heard his voice so deep. "I'll wait for the police." 

Ignis nods wordlessly, and pulls Prompto by the wrist. Prompto stumbles after him, and he realizes that the roaring sound from earlier was Ignis ramming the Regalia up and over the sidewalk. 

"Ignis-" 

"I'm going to patch you up right as rain, alright love?" Ignis opens the door for him, and helps him settle. Prompto tries to blink the world back into clarity, and nods. 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if the frequent updates are overwhelming, i just had all this done and sitting around, so

Noctis is yelling up a storm when they enter the apartment. He's on the phone, face red, and he's ripping someone a new one on the other end. 

He spots Prompto and physically deflates. Prompto offers him a half smile, and a  _I’m_   _alive_  thumbs up. But Noctis sees his wound, and his face befalls wrath.

He turns back around. 

"No — it's not fuckin' acceptable. Let me talk to Cor — I said  _let me talk to Cor._ " 

"Come," Ignis says. Prompto dazedly follows him into the bathroom. 

"They just tried to kidnap me," Prompto whispers. 

"Yes. Sit down." 

Prompto sits on the top of the toilet lid. Ignis tears through the cabinet under the sink and brings out a massive first-aid kit that he didn't even know they had. 

With the shock wearing off, Prompto starts to feel the pain throbbing against his skull. He winces a little, and brings a hand up to feel for the damage. 

"Don't," Ignis snaps. "I'm going to attempt at a butterfly procedure. I do not wish you to have stitches." 

Oh, that means it's bad, huh. Jeez. Prompto's hands are trembling, and he clenches them against his knees. 

"Ignis, they tried to kidnap me."

Ignis stops moving. Prompto didn't realize how quickly he was darting around, until now. He looks up, and there’s a broken look in his eyes. 

"They didn't," Ignis says.

He squats down to his level, and tenderly drags his thumb along Prompto's cheek; it smears blood along his fingers, bright red and sticky. He wipes away the blood, and resumes mechanically digging through the kit, grabbing swabs and anti-septic wipes. He pours some water on a rag, and starts to clean the wound. 

"Ow-" 

"Please. Stay as still as possible." 

"Okay." 

Noctis is screaming on the phone. His voice is gravely and deep, and Prompto has never heard him so angry. Prompto breathes in, and out.

"You guys made it home early." 

"Right in time, too." 

Prompto winces as he disinfects the gash. His entire forehead feels swollen. 

"Iggy. How did you guys find me?" 

"Luck," Ignis answers. 

"But you- you guys-" Prompto makes a chopping sound, and whacks his hand to the side. Ignis lifts a brow. Prompto asks, "Are you a ninja?" 

Ignis cracks his first smile yet. 

"No. Gladio and I..." He sighs, dropping the cotton swab in the trash. "We...took martial arts classes as children." 

"You nailed that guy with a  _knife,_ Ignis." 

"You do see how often I cook, do you not?" 

Prompto makes a face, "I guess." 

Ignis begins to butterfly the wound with little strips. It really hurts, and Prompto bites his tongue. 

"I know dear, I know," Ignis coos. "One more, I promise." 

Something shatters in the living room. Prompto winces. 

"Who is Noct talking to?" 

Ignis presses his lips together. He peels back the last bandage with his nail, and sticks it carefully to Prompto's temple. 

"Noctis has connections in the police force. It's likely he's raging over lack of campus security." 

"I'm sorry," Prompto says.

Ignis halts. 

He looks Prompto dead in the eye, and glares with a burning anger. His voice is forced steady.

"This is not your doing. You managed to hold your own against seven armed men. If not for your attempts to flee, Gladio and I might not have-" he bites off. He looks away. 

"I'm fine," Prompto says. Ignis swallows thickly, and Prompto's heart lurches. "No no no- Iggy, I'm fine! See!" 

Ignis sighs. He closes his eyes, and brings Prompto's head forward. He presses a long standing kiss to the good side of his temple, and pulls away. Prompto’s anxiety starts to bleed from him.

The front door opens and shuts, and Prompto winces when Gladio comes to stand into the doorway. His brain replays it like a movie; Gladio cracking a man's skull into the ground, tossing a guy over his shoulder, the snap of broken ribs. The anger in his voice. 

But Gladio hovers in the doorway, and deflates like a balloon. 

"Oh, Prompto. Thank the Six. Did you patch him up?" 

"As best I can." 

Gladio swallows. He holds up —

"Your phone."

Prompto stands stiffly, and takes it from him. 

"Thank you." 

Gladio presses a hand to his neck, studying the bandages. He looks Prompto in the eye for a split second, before he grabs him and hauls him into a crushing hug. He extends an arm and pulls Ignis into the hug as well.

 _"Calm down? You want me to calm down? You can take your protocols and shove them up your fuckin' ass-"_  

Ignis smiles sadly, and steps away to look at Gladio. 

"I'll get him," Ignis says, and enters into the living room. The yelling stops, but there's a slight hiccup in his voice, and Prompto thinks that might be worse. 

 

* * *

 

 

 Prompto doesn't know who Noctis called, but whatever he did, it sure as hell worked, because there's campus security up the hoohaa. 

He sleeps most of the next day thanks to a giga headache, but he wakes up feeling much better by that next afternoon. It kinda' sucks to waste so much time, but Prompto is very glad to not be dead. He tries not to think about it too much (Aunty M absolutely  _cannot_ know about this). 

Prompto takes a shower, and gets a good look at himself in the mirror and  _yikes._ Most of the left side of his face is purple and blue, but at least the gash on his head is already healing. It's definitely sore. 

He walks into the living room, and smiles. 

"Good morning." 

Noctis raises his gaze, takes one look at him, and starts to cry. 

Prompto can't help but laugh, "What?? What's wrong?" 

"You look horrible," Noctis cries, using the collar of his t-shirt to wipe his eyes. 

"Thanks, that makes me feel super-great." 

"You look like a lava lamp." 

"Yeah." 

"You look like purple smoothie." 

"Stretchin' a little far with that one." 

"You need to ice," Ignis says, turning away from his laptop. He digs through the drawers for a plastic baggie, and Gladio comes out of the other bedroom. 

"Hey! He's up!" 

"Ignis is a miracle worker," Prompto says, fingers picking at his bandages. "This thing is already starting to scab." 

"Don't  _pick it,_ " Ignis chides, and hands him a baggie of ice with a rag. 

Prompto hums, "I wonder if it'll scar." 

"It will not, because I won't allow it," Ignis says. He tips Prompto gently by the jaw, and examines his temple. "Your face is too beautiful to be marred so young." 

Prompto goes warm. He pecks Ignis, and begins to press the ice to his head. Noctis is still hiccuping on the couch, so Prompto crawls over and in his lap, and lets Noctis get snot all over his shoulder. 

"So, just to clear the room. What happened with those guys?" 

"They're in custody," Gladio says. "The police are tracking down the van as we speak." 

"Jeez. Do I need to make a statement?" 

"I'll handle it," Noctis says. 

Prompto blinks. "Are you su-" 

"Yes." 

Hm, alright.

Gladio leans up against the doorway. Ignis fiddles with the stove burner. Prompto coughs. 

"So what are the plans today?" 

 _"Nothing,"_ Gladio says incredulously. "You need to rest." 

"Eh, I'm fine." 

"You're handling this surprisingly well." 

"I used to get beat up alot as a kid." 

Man, Prompto might as well have set off a bomb, because the three of them tense like clockwork. 

"Not like —" Prompto laughs. "I mean, I used to get into trouble. Fall off my skateboard and do dumb shit with my friends." And there was the occasional bully, but nobody needs to know that. 

"Ah." 

"I think we should do whatever Prompto wants to," Ignis says. 

Prompto rolls his eyes, "Don't baby me." 

"But you  _are_ our baby." 

Prompto crosses arms, from where he sits sidesaddle and cuddled up in Noctis's lap,   _"Shut up-"_  and the rest of them laugh. 

They browse through Netflix and play videogames, and Ignis cooks a kickass dinner that has Prompto so full he has to lay down and breathe so he doesn't die on the spot. Noctis is still a little mopey, and there's something wrong with the atmosphere, but Prompto just can't tell what it is. The headache comes and goes, but in the words of Ignis, so is life. 

He has questions. He just can't remember what they are. 

 

* * *

 

 Prompto cannot find Noctis  _anywhere._

It's mildly concerning, because Noctis never friggin' leaves the apartment, and unless he made a secret run to the arcade,  Prompto has no idea where he went. 

Gladio and Ignis are sharing a shower, so Prompto texts Noctis  _where'd you go???_ and doesn't wait long for a reply. 

 

> _Roof._

 

Prompto snags Noctis's beanie off his nightstand, and he can't find any of his own coats, so he jacks one of Gladio's sweatshirts and steps out in slippers. He's afraid to walk and listen to music anymore, so he holds his phone tight in his hand and climbs up the stairwell. 

The door is hard to budge open; it takes a shoulder to get it to swing the rest of the way. Prompto has never been up here at night. The pool glows an off green, and the distant city lights are kind of stunning. 

There's a figure sitting out on the lawn chairs. Prompto approaches, and realizes that Noctis is talking to someone on the phone. 

_Oh. Oops._

He goes to shut the pool gate, but Noctis looks up and waves him over. Prompto hesitates a moment, but steps past the gate and brushes off the adjacent deck chair, sitting cross-legged. 

"Yeah," Noctis says, phone wedged in his shoulder, fingers picking at his shoelaces. "Yup. Mhmm. I will. Okay - yeah. Love you too. Kay. Bye." 

He hangs up, and flops his phone back on the chair. 

"Hey." 

"Sorry — I didn't know you were on the phone." 

"It was just my dad," Noctis says. 

"Oh. How is he?" 

"Good," Noctis says. "Did you call your aunt about, um..." 

"No," Prompto says. "She can't know. She'll have me moved out by morning." 

Noctis nods wordlessly.  A moment passes, and a breeze blows a ripple in the pool. Noctis offers a smile. 

"At least I'd finally get to meet your cousins." 

"Oh don't even joke about that," Prompto barks. "It's my worst nightmare." 

Noctis leans back his head and laughs, and Prompto draws his knees up to pout. He's still trying to forget about the day he facetimed his aunt in the kitchen, and in the middle of introducing his roommates, his 12 year old cousin grabbed the phone and shouted  _Prompto peed his pants in seventh grade!_

 _"I'll kill you!"_ Prompto screeched, and the apartment laughed about it for days. 

"I don't have any siblings," Noctis says. 

"Me neither, technically." 

"But you were raised with your cousins. That's practically the same thing." 

Prompto shrugs, "Yeah. I guess." 

"What was it like?" 

"Growing up? Kinda' quiet, until I moved in with my aunt. Then there were babies and bunkbeds and going out back to feed the Chocobos at six in the morning." 

"You had Chocobos!" 

"Only three," Prompto laughs. "One was a racing girl. She never won much, but my uncle always had a dream of a winning bird. The other two were transport. Cheaper than a second car payment." 

"Wow," Noctis says. "It's like a totally different life." 

"City boy?" 

"You can say that." 

"I was born in the city," Prompto says. Noctis doesn't reply. Prompto knows the look on his face, because he saw it all the time back home. He usually ignored it, but. Noctis picks at his shoelaces, and his profile is lit by the pool lights, and Prompto trusts the openness in his eyes. Prompto clears his throat. "They died in a lab accident." 

Noctis's head whips up. 

"Huh?" 

"My parents were scientists," Prompto says. 

"I never met my mom," Noctis blurts. Prompto stares, and Noctis clarifies, "She died when I was a baby." 

"I'm sorry." 

"It's fine. I never knew any different." 

He looks...lonely. 

"Noctis- you -" Prompto pauses. He waits until Noctis looks at him, and Prompto smiles. "You're a really amazing person, you know?" 

Noctis blinks, and his face goes pinkish - but he doesn't look away. He opens his mouth, shuts it, and starts, "I want to tell you something." 

"Okay." 

Noctis wets his bottom lip. He opens his mouth, and when nothing comes out, he takes a breath, and looks away. 

"Ah. I forgot what it was." 

"I do that all the time," Prompto laughs, and stands. "Come on. Gladio and Ignis are gonna' start Ozark without us." 

"They better  _not."_

 

 

* * *

 

 

It's the last day of break, and Prompto  _refuses_ to sit in and do nothing. 

"Are you sure you feel okay?" Noctis asks. 

Prompto glares. 

"If you ask me one more time I'm going to punch  _you_ over the head." 

They're in line for tickets at the museum. Ignis re-bandaged up his head real good, so now you can't see most of the bruising. It doesn't hurt so much anymore, it just looks ugly. 

“Jeez, see if I ever worry about you ever again.”

“Thanks babe,” Prompto teases, and makes kissy faces until Noctis cracks.

It's chilly waiting outside, but Gladio has big hands, and Prompto squeezes it tight to try and suck out all the warmth. Gladio doesn't seem super ecstatic about being here, but Prompto appreciates him coming along anyways. Prompto looks down when he feels wiggling fingers; Noctis squeezes his arm in, trying to wedge his hand between Gladio and Prompto's. 

Gladio looks at him flatly. 

"I'm cold!" Noctis snaps. 

Prompto moves so he's gripping Gladio's first two fingers, and Noctis grabs his pinky and his ring finger. Gladio rolls his eyes. 

"We look dumb as shit." 

"I think it's pretty practical." 

The line moves up a little bit. 

"Noct, come here," Ignis sighs. He holds out his hands expectantly, and Noctis sets his fingers in his palm. Ignis squeezes his fingers and blows on them, and Noctis looks like it was his plan all along. 

Prompto threads his fingers back through Gladio’s, and grins up at him. The look on Gladio's face falters. He looks away once, before returning Prompto's smile. 

They get through security, and Prompto leads them through the museum. 

"Ooh, the ancient exhibit is over here—" 

"Don't touch anything," Ignis chides, looking at Noctis and Gladio. 

"We  _won't._ " 

"We're not kids!" Noctis huffs. But he spots something, turns on his heel and takes off across the room, "Oh my god, a  _dick sculpture_!"

Prompto and Ignis simultaneously look away, hands covering their faces, and Gladio bends over and laughs. 

The museum is a maze of rooms. Gladio and Noctis have less patience for the art, but Prompto didn't expect any less. 

Ignis hovers a little more than usual.  It wouldn't be noticeable to anyone else, but he's a constant presence at his side, and Prompto doesn't mind all that much. It's fun and slow going; white walls and neon art and modern sculpture. That is, until they reach the photography hall. 

"Oh oh oh!" Prompto jumps, "This is an  _original_ R.Frank. Jeez, what'd they have to pay to get  _this?_ " 

He turns back around, and Ignis is looking at him, instead of the photograph. Prompto stares back. 

"What?" 

"Nothing," Ignis says, stepping to Prompto's side. He folds his hands behind his back. "Tell me more." 

Prompto does. Gladio and Noctis disappear, but Ignis stays with him, and lets Prompto ramble on about old technology and groundbreaking techniques and photographers that risked life and limb to reveal the truth about war. 

Prompto doesn't realize that he's taken Ignis's hand, until he notices himself flopping it around as he talks. 

"Oops," Prompto stops. "Sorry!" 

Ignis smiles at him, and nods, "Please continue. I find the invention of celluloid rolls quite interesting." 

"Well it is! Especially once they started using it for motion pictures." 

"Hey nerds," Noctis says, slipping his hand in Iggy’s back pocket. "There any chance we might get lunch sometime this year?" 

"We'll leave when Prompto's done," Gladio gruffs, elbowing him. 

"I'm just saying!" 

"I'm good," Prompto grins. "What are we feeling?" 

"I would suck a dick for a sushi burrito right now." 

"Noct, we are in  _public._ " 

Prompto laughs, "Then we better go quick before Noctis starts suckin' dicks." 

"I'm a loose canon," Noctis deadpans. 

Ignis drags them out of the museum, holding both of their hands, and Gladio follows behind, cackling. They still have a few hours left in the meter, so they google a sushi place and walk six blocks. Prompto convinces them to take a picture in front of the sign, and they eat in a booth by the window. 

Noctis squishes in next to him, and sets his head at his shoulder while he plays games on his phone. Prompto is, admittedly, tired from all the walking, so he quietly eats, and watches Ignis and Gladio discuss  _The Old Man and the Sea._

Ignis is rambling about symbolism, and Gladio is sitting with his head in his hand, elbow propped in the window, and Prompto falls in love with the way Gladio looks at him. Ignis is using the salt packets to lay out the map of the Gulf, and Gladio just looks utterly taken. 

It kinda' reminds him of how Ignis was looking at him earlier. 

Prompto bites his lip, and fiddles with the straw in his drink. 

"You have bony shoulders," Noctis says. 

"You have a hard head," Prompto replies. 

"The sharks embody the destructive laws of the universe, and attest to the fact that those laws can be transcended only when equals fight to the death," Ignis says. 

"Mmmm," Gladio nods, with total heart eyes. 

"Reading is for pussies," Noctis says, pouring soy sauce in his mouth and then taking a bite out of his sushi burrito, miraculously offending Ignis on two separate levels — so badly, that Ignis's jaw drops. 

"You're killing him," Gladio says. "You're killing your father." 

Prompto is laughing so hard he's crying, using the napkin to wipe at his eyes. 

"What?" Noctis drops his head back on Prompto's shoulder. "I'll just watch the movie adaptations instead. Way less time consuming." 

Ignis looks like his soul has left his body. Even Gladio seems to take offense on that one.

"I've failed you," Gladio says.

Ignis just slides down in the seat, and sets his head back against the top of the booth, fingers under his chin, gaze upwards. Noctis starts to laugh. 

Something flashes outside. Prompto blinks, and looks out the window. There's people on bicycles and cars on the busy street, and later when they begin the walk back to the Regalia, Prompto puts up his arms and sighs. 

"Gladio, can you carry me?" 

"Of course baby," he says, bending down. Prompto climbs up for a piggyback ride, and Noctis looks scandalized. 

"How come you never carry  _me?_ "

"I carry you all the damn time." 

"Specs-"

"No." 

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis calls him to the kitchen. 

Prompto has barely kicked off his shoes yet. Noctis bellyflops on his bed, and Prompto scrubs a hand through his hair. He shouts back,

"Yeah?" 

"I'm going to check your head," Ignis says. "Please sit." 

Prompto walks into the kitchen, sways back into the chair, and Ignis kneels at his feet with a new bandage in hand. He gently peels back the old one, and Prompto hisses as it pulls at his skin. Ignis hums in sympathy, and when its all the way off he tosses it away. It stings a little while he cleans it, and soon there's a clean bandage pressed carefully against his hairline. 

"You take such good care of me," Prompto teases. 

Ignis looks up at him. Prompto doesn't get the opportunity to look down at him very often, but Prompto never forgets how alluring he is. Never ever. 

His buttdown is partly undone, and his jeans stretch as he squats. His waist is so lithe, tucked into a tight leather belt — but Ignis could wear nothing but a t-shirt and still be the best-dressed man in the room.

Prompto brings a hand to his jaw, and pets across his bottom lip. Ignis lets him trace across his cheek, and rub his thumb beneath the rim of his glasses. His skin is so soft. 

“You’re really beautiful,” says Prompto.

“Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you,” Ignis replies airily. Prompto inhales. 

Ignis leans up and kisses him. Prompto goes for chaste — but Ignis is the one that deepens it. The one that holds on, that parts his lips, that coaxes it warmer and wetter all at once. Prompto makes an  _oh_ sound, and gets with the program. Ignis makes a satisfied sound when he kisses back. 

Prompto drags his hand into his hair. It's  thick, and the hairs at the base of his neck are just long enough to curl around his finger. Ignis pulls back, and Prompto sways a little bit. 

“Oh my dear,” he sighs. “I am so head over tits for you.”

"Wait-" Prompto breathes. "Don't stop." 

Ignis looks at him, and there's a newfound fire in his eyes. 

He surges upwards, and Prompto clings to him. Ignis licks into his mouth, curls his tongue along his own, and Prompto spreads his knees more to accommodate him. Ignis's hands slide to the insides of his thighs, and Prompto goes hot with it.  

Iggy's glasses twist against his face, and when he sucks on his tongue, Prompto's gut flip flops. 

"Bed. Couch. Floor. Something. Please." Prompto kisses. He feels like he could fall over any second.

Ignis smiles against his lips, “A wise suggestion.”

He stands gracefully, pulling Prompto to his feet along the way. He noses down beyond his ear, curls a hand around to his lower back, and smacks his butt, prodding him into the bedroom. Prompto giggles, and jumps on one foot to peel off his socks.  Gladio looks up from his book.

Prompto flops back on the bed as Ignis follows him down. Ignis gets his hands under his hips and lifts him by the butt, playfully nuzzling into his hair and making him laugh, and then squeezing his ass and making him whine. 

"Oh fuck off," Gladio says lightly, from the other bed. "You guys are so cute." 

"Why is Ignis such a good kisser?" Prompto asks him, squirming a little when Ignis sucks along his throat. Oh  _fuck,_ his teeth are sharp. Color him hard, as of this very second. 

"Lots of practice," Ignis teases, and licks beneath his ear. Prompto keens, hips shuddering upwards, and Noctis peeks in from the other room. 

"Cm'ere," Gladio says, and Noctis scrambles on his bed.

"You guys started without me?" 

"I didn't start shit." 

"Just having a taste, darling," Ignis hums, sitting back on his heels, and pushing his glasses back on his nose. Prompto tries to go for his bottom buttons when he's not looking, but Ignis catches him red handed. 

"Just take this off," Prompto pouts. 

"What's the hurry?" Ignis asks, bending back over him. He moves panther-like and slithery, and Prompto feels like prey. "As far as I'm aware, you've got nowhere else to be." He kisses him again, and Prompto melts into putty. 

They kiss for forever and ever. Noctis is already backwards in Gladio's lap, jeans shoved down beneath his butt, and Prompto can't look for too long because he might go into cardiac arrest.

Ignis draws his attention back, reaching beneath his shirt and skimming his hand upwards. 

"Prompto." 

"Yeah?" 

Ignis pushes his shirt up to his armpits, and reaches down to press his lips to his sternum. 

"I would have you, my dear, if you would so allow me. Anywhich way." 

Fuck. 

 _"Yes,_ " Prompto cries. Ignis kisses once above his bellybutton, and once again below. “Top me, please.”

"Wait what's happening?" Noctis asks, sounding a little drunk. "Iggy's fucking Prompto? No fair." 

"Ig's a solid first choice," Gladio says. 

"Next time," Prompto laughs, reaching a hand out over the bed towards Noctis — and Noctis  _shudders,_ mouth falling slightly open. 

A hand wriggles to squeeze high beneath his thigh, and a finger runs down the center seam of his jeans, right along his ass — and Prompto arches,  "Ah - I - Ignis, wait." 

Ignis pushes up his glasses as they slide to the base of his nose. 

"Hm?"

 "It's just - er, been a while, so you'll have to let me-" 

"Oh no no, that's  _my_ job," Noctis beams, and that's how Prompto ends up on his stomach, Noctis three-fingers deep in his ass, Prompto drooling into his own arm like he never learned how to fucking swallow. 

"Iggy is gonna' fuck you so good," Noctis says conversationally, screwing his fingers and making Prompto bite into his arm. "You can come now, 'cause Specs is gonna' make you come again." 

 _"Six,_ Noctis, you can't say that," Prompto pants, fingers white knuckled in the sheets. "You're gonna' kill me." 

"Go easy," Gladio says. 

Noctis slows down, and Prompto snaps, " _God_ no- don't do  _that."_

Noctis laughs, and smacks his butt once, spreading his fingers and making Prompto's toes curl. He's never had someone know exactly what they're doing — and Noctis works from experience, and that kills Prompto even more. He grinds his dick into the sheets, too oversensitive to touch himself. He's sweating, hair sticking to his forehead, and he whines a little when he digs the bad side of his temple into the pillows. 

"Watch his head!" Ignis chides. 

"Careful-" Noctis slows down, and Prompto thinks he might cry. 

"I'm good, I'm good." 

“You sure?”

“Yeah babe - come  _on_.”

"Alriiiight," Noctis drawls, and licks until his tongue meets his fingers, and Prompto  _does_ come that time. Noctis keeps working him, and Prompto stays hard, and he thinks sex might be ruined for him, because nothing can possibly top this. 

Well. Ignis can top this. Ignis  _does_ top this. 

Noctis presses a single kiss to his lower back, and leaves Prompto feeling empty and shaken. But Ignis slides behind him, and a hand skims up his back, and Prompto moans behind his teeth when cold fingers feel between his legs. 

"Stunning," Ignis says. "What a piece of work." 

"Oughta' hang him in that museum," Gladio hums. There's the sound of a condom wrapper, and Prompto's eyes snap open. 

"Wait-" Prompto squirms. The hand stills at his hips, and Prompto tries to roll. "I gotta — I have to be on my back. I have to see you." 

“Of course.”

Ignis helps him flip over, and when Prompto gets a good look at him, his breath vacuums straight out of his lungs. Iggy’s hair has fallen, and his glasses are gone, and some of that cool, collected demeanor is gone. Ignis looks like he wants to devour him whole, and Prompto would let him. 

"Please," Prompto begs, and it snaps Ignis back into motion. His shirt is gone, (finally, Prompto has  _plans),_ and his jeans are shoved down, belt still hanging out of the loops. Prompto reaches up and presses his hands to the flat of his stomach, sweeping up the muscle of his chest. Ignis works himself in his hand, fingers wet with lube.

“Fuck you're sexy," Prompto says. Ignis stares down at him, and it's amazing. 

"Tart," Ignis purrs, and in one fluid motion, sits up on his knees, grabs Prompto by the thighs, and shoves home. Prompto's head snaps back on the bed, and Iggy’s fingers grip into his skin hard enough to bruise. It burns from the stretch, but Noctis prepared him better than Prompto’s ever had — and fuck, when Ignis  _moves?_ He nearly flat-lines. Clear. 

There's a short laugh from Noctis and Gladio. Prompto is stunned silent, attempting (and failing miserably) to grab his soul by the neck and shove it back in his body. 

"I'm so glad I'm not the only one," Noctis says. 

"Holy  _shit,_ " Prompto wheezes, toes curling. He can immediately feel the build in his stomach.

There’s a notch between Iggy’s brows, and he bites his lip, but never looks away. "Bloody hell. Quite alright?" 

"Yeap," Prompto croaks. 

Ignis fucks like a dancer, and it's mind-blowing. Prompto is rendered speechless; his jaw is just dropped, fingers digging into the sheets above his head, trying to keep his eyes open so he can watch for as long as he can. Ignis leans up and forwards, a hand bracing in the sheets, and somehow it gets  _better._

Prompto curses, broken gasps and half-attempts at Ignis's name, and he can  _feel_ Gladio and Noctis watching him, and it adds this whole other layer to it all. If he squints, he can see Noctis's hand between his own legs, but his eyes are too blurry to really pay attention. Sorry, but he's having his brain fucked out of his goddamn ears, please leave a message at the end of the beep. 

He's burning from the inside out. Prompto scrapes his nails into Ignis's back, and Ignis  _moans —_ and it's the best sound friggin'  _ever,_ thank you. Ignis looks wrecked, and Prompto can't believe it's because of him. He starts to meet Ignis thrust for thrust, and it’s worth it for the look on Iggy’s face alone. 

“Talk,” Prompto begs.

Ignis presses a kiss to his sternum, voice liquid sex, “Darling you feel  _amazing_. You’re so good for me, love — no, don’t look away. You should see yourself —“ Ignis  kisses into his shoulder, and thrusts hard enough to make him whine, “— delectably red all the way up to here.” 

His stomach twists, like a hot knife beneath his bellybutton. 

Ignis leans further up and forward to kiss him, and Prompto's cock grinds into Iggy's stomach, and he makes a sound alien to his own ears. 

"I wanna' tag in," Gladio says. 

"Go," says Noctis. 

“Kiss him for me,” Ignis tells.

The bed dips, and Gladio bends over him, taking his turn to kiss Prompto hot and hard and safe. Ignis throws his leg over his shoulder, and Prompto sees stars. He digs a hand in Galdio’s hair, and Ignis bites into his neck, and Gladio swallows his tongue, and Prompto ends up with more bruises, but these are ones to be actually proud of. 

“What a picture,” Noctis teases.

Yeah, no kidding. 

 

Prompto wakes up the next morning, and steals one of Ignis’s turtlenecks.

 

* * *

 

School starts again. Prompto isn't thrilled about his random science credit, but he's  _so_ excited for his digital photography class he could cry. He doesn't have any classes with Cindy (now that she's out of her prereqs and into her automotive curriculum), but they share a lunch on Tuesdays, and that's good enough. He and Noctis doesn't share any classes either, but that's probably 'cause he's still undeclared. 

 _"You're cutting it rather close,"_ Ignis said, over breakfast, but Noctis was already asleep at the table. 

Prompto doesn't want to think about how this is Ignis and Gladio's last semester. They're just now figuring all this out, and Prompto refuses to acknowledge half of his problems in life anyways, so add it to the pile. 

"We should go downtown this week!" Prompto chirps, organizing his school binder. 

Ignis doesn't look up from his laptop, but asks, "Why do you say so?" 

"I need to photograph some architecture for my assignment this week, and there's jack-shit around campus." 

"I’ll go. My tattoo artist is on 8th street," Gladio says. "I think I'm gonna' get my brow pierced." 

"Can I go?" Noctis tugs on his ears, "I really want to get some plugs." 

Ignis gives him a flat look, and Noctis rolls his eyes. 

"Only the small ones!" 

"We'll discuss it," Ignis says, which is basically a no. 

"Alright, well I'm off to class!" Prompto slings his bag over his shoulder. 

"Noo," Noctis whines, and Prompto leans over the arm of the couch to kiss him. 

"Which class is this?" Gladio asks. Prompto comes around the back of the recliner, and leans over on his toes to give him a spiderman kiss.  

"Design fundamentals!" 

"Exciting," Ignis says. He holds out a hand expectantly, and Prompto takes it, pecking his mouth and squeezing his hand before reaching for the door handle. "Be careful walking home." 

"Yeah, call us if you want us to come get ya'." 

Prompto laughs, "I'm fine. See you guys." 

"Bye!" 

Prompto shuts the door, and he's a little late now, so he takes the stairs, and speedwalks to class. He makes it with a few minutes to spare; the seats in the back are already taken, so he's forced up towards the front. It feels like everyone is staring at him — but Prompto assumes that's 'cause he walked in last. Nobody sits next to him, and he's not sure if he's relieved. 

The professor is a crotchety old lady who says the word syllabus way too many times. She's lenient on late work, so that's a relief and a half. Most of class is spent going over a powerpoint, and Prompto starts to doze off halfway through, so he heads down to the lounge during break. 

The vending machines are stocked due to the new semester, hence, Prompto is able to get some of the good canned coffee. He has ten minutes left before class resumes, so Prompto takes a seat at one of the lunch tables and pulls out his phone. It's not too busy, but there's chatter from a group of girls over by the window, and it looks like there's a study group that's shoved a few tables together. 

Something slaps down in front of him. Prompto jerks, head snapping up. 

Dammit.

He sighs, and scrubs at his forehead. 

"Ravus."

"Hey Prompto," Ravus grins. "How was break?" 

He looks really proud about something. Prompto's chest no longer hurts whenever he sees him — he just feels annoyance instead. It’s weird; he used to look at Ravus and see perfect white hair and a cool exterior, but now all he sees is a rich kid with too much pride. 

Prompto crosses his arms.

"I thought we'd been over this." 

"My break was nice, thanks, but not as magical as yours," Ravus beams. "It's all anyone is talking about."

Prompto stares. 

"Huh?" 

Ravus points to the newspaper he slapped down on the table. 

"You sure moved on fast. Not bad, Prompto, not bad." 

Prompto reads the headline, and the world falls out from beneath his feet. 

 

* * *

 

The mood is already tense when he walks in. 

Prompto slams the door behind him. It rattles the hinges, and it's not loud enough. 

Noctis is at the kitchen table, studying from a textbook, and he doesn't even look up. His eyes are dead center on the page, but it's obvious he's not reading. Gladio doesn't move from the couch, and Ignis's chopping hesitates. 

Prompto slaps the newspaper down on the kitchen table. His lungs are burning, and he's  _seething_ every shade of red. 

"What's this?" Prompto manages. 

Noctis doesn't move, or blink, or speak at all. Ignis sets down the knife, but doesn't turn. 

"Oh! Sorry —  _your highness._  Let me read that for you," Prompto sneers. He picks up the paper, and reads aloud,  _"Prince Noctis Spotted In Downtown Insomnia; Surprise Sushi Date?"_

 

Not just Noctis.  _Prince Noctis._ Heir to the Lucian Throne. 

Prompto had furiously googled. There’s few public photos of him as an adult, but the child resemblance was uncanny. 

Prince Noctis.

 

Prompto has felt this burning betrayal, but it hurts more than he remembers. It's crippling, and he can't see through his rage.  

Noctis's breath shakes.

"Noctis that's  _me—"_ Prompto points to the photo. It's the four of them, in the sushi restaurant, with Noctis's head on his shoulder. Prompto is laughing. Gladio and Ignis are smiling. Prompto throws the paper back down, and hisses, "When were you thinking about telling me this, huh??" 

Ignis sighs, and finally  _someone_ looks at him. "Now Prompto, let us explain." 

"Oh, I can't fuckin'  _wait_ to hear it," Prompto snaps. "What was all this? A lie?" 

"We  _never_ lied," Gladio snaps. 

"Just bent the truth a little, yeah?" Prompto laughs coldly. He points between Gladio and Ignis, "And who are  _you_ two?"

Ignis flinches. 

Gladio rises, jaw set, and stands at attention. 

"Gladiolus Amicitia, eldest son of the Amiticia household and bodyguard to Prince Noctis." 

Ignis looks at Prompto with a deep sadness in his eyes, and it makes Prompto sick. He blinks it away, straightens his back, and bows. 

"Ignis Scientia, retainer and royal adviser to Prince Noctis." 

"Unbelievable," Prompto shakes. "So it was all fake."

Noctis looks up, and he has the gall to start crying. 

"Prompto-" 

"No!" Prompto shouts, jerking his hand away before Noctis can grab it. "How  _dare_ you." 

"We never-" 

"I told you  _EVERYTHING_ about me!" Prompto shouts, eyes burning, pain scorching up his stomach and turning his breath to ash. "And now-" his wrath spills over, and down his cheeks, "And now I don't know anything about you." 

Noctis sobs.

Gladio approaches, fury in his eyes, "Don't you yell at him!" 

"What are you going to do, bodyguard?" Prompto cries, "Punch me! Go on-  _hit me! HIT ME."_

Gladio physically recoils. Ignis tries, "Please... allow us to-" 

"Don't. Just don't." 

Prompto slings his bag up over his shoulder, and walks out.

 

 

 

 

He stumbles a little when the door shuts. Prompto wipes his eyes with his sleeve, takes in a long shuddery breath, rights himself, and continues forward. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	8. Chapter 8

Prompto makes it to Cindy's apartment.

He's okay, he's okay — 

Cindy opens the door, and Prompto breaks down crying. 

"Oh- dear," Cindy gasps. She grabs him by the shoulders, and Prompto hiccups as Cindy pulls him inside. He's a fucking mess. Fingers rubbing at his eyes, trying to breathe as his body shakes. Cindy is there for him, arm around his shoulder — and she lets him cry it out before asking any questions. She doesn't ask questions, but Prompto has a feeling she already knows. 

"Water?" 

"Please," he snivels. 

Prompto sips it, but it feels like someones carved out his chest. "I'm sorry-" 

"Shush," Cindy says, and grabs a jumbo sized tub of ice cream out of the freezer. Fuck, she's a saint. 

Cindy lets him stay the night. Her girlfriend (Luna) brings home dinner, and Prompto doesn't have much cash on him, but he  _promises_ to pay them back. His phone is buzzing off the fuckin' chain, so Prompto just turns it off. 

He wishes he could turn it all off. 

 

* * *

 

 

There's a distant clang. He can hear muffled voices, but they're softer than what he's used to. 

Prompto sits up.  There's a kink in his back, and his head hurts. His eyes are ridiculously swollen.

"Hey darlin," Cindy smiles. "How ya' feeling?" 

"Bad." Prompto rubs his eyes. "Jeez Cindy, I'm so sorry. I didn't even call or anything." 

"It's alright sweetheart. I have a class today, but you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like." 

"I owe you so much," Prompto hugs her. "Seriously." 

She squeezes him back. 

"Do you need me to stop by your apartment?" 

"No," Prompto says. "I don't want them to know I'm here." 

Cindy makes a face. She nods, and goes back to the kitchen, mumbling something to Luna. Prompto flops back down, and resists the urge to turn on his phone. It's Friday; he doesn't have class until Monday, so that gives him  _at least_ three days to figure out what the hell he's going to do now. 

The thought of moving makes him want to throw up. He hates this feeling. 

He trusted them. He  _trusted them._

Fuck, he was so in love.. Not just a distant crush, or a secret pining. He experienced it full-fledged, and now reality has just backhanded him across the face. 

Prompto can't breathe right. It feels like someone is sitting on his chest. He tries to go back to sleep, but eventually settles for watching T.V. They have a nice apartment; it's clean and decorated all girly and cute. Luna is typing away on her laptop in her room, and Prompto thinks about the homework he needs to do, and feels another pitfall in his stomach.

The T.V. plays, but Prompto doesn't really watch it. Cindy comes home, and the passage of time feels wrong. Cindy says to help himself to anything in the fridge, but he doesn't feel like eating. Luna and Cindy join him on the couch that evening, and it makes him feel a little less lonely. 

The doorbell rings. Cindy looks at Luna, and blinks, "We expectin' someone?" 

"Amazon?" 

Cindy hauls herself up, and looks in the peephole. She blinks, and turns back. 

"Um...Prom. I think — I think one of your boyfriends is here." 

Prompto  _leaps_ from the couch. 

"I'm not here!" He hisses.

Prompto skids into the bathroom, slams the door shut, and sinks to the floor, shaking. He can hear Cindy unlock her front door, and Prompto can barely hear, but he knows Ignis's voice anywhere. 

_"Hello. Are you Cindy?"_

_"Yeah. Who're you?"_

_"My name is Ignis. Apologies, but I have reason to believe my partner is here."_

_"And why's that?"_

_"We..."_ Ignis hesitates.  _"There was a misunderstanding. I know you are his friend. I understand if he wishes not to speak with us, but we must know that he's okay."_

Cindy pauses, and Prompto squeezes his eyes shut. 

_"He's okay."_

There's a sigh in Ignis's voice. He speaks a little louder now, 

 _"Prompto, please come home. We don't expect your forgiveness, but we owe you an explanation at the least._ " 

There's a sound, and the talking becomes too quiet to hear. Prompto leans his head against the door, and fights the squeeze in his throat. He's not sure how long he stays there. It must be a while, because Cindy comes knocking. 

_"Prom? He's gone now."_

Prompto feels detached from his body while he rises to his feet. It takes him a long time to open the door. 

 

* * *

 

It feels like someone's plucked Prompto out of his brain, and shoved something else in. He can't focus on anything, and he still cant summon the will to eat. Food smells horrible, and he's chewed down the skin around his nails, but he doesn't remember doing it. 

God, why can't he get  _over it._

Prompto loses against the temptation to turn on his phone. Seventeen missed calls. Two from his aunt. One text message from Noctis. 

 

> _I'm sorry_

 

Prompto taps his phone against his forehead, and grinds his teeth. 

 

Cindy sits him down on Saturday morning. 

"Prompto," she says. "I think you should go home." 

Prompto's soul shoves back into his body. He blinks, horror falling on his face. 

"Fuck. Cindy I'm so  _sorry._ How long have I been here?" 

"Two nights," Cindy laughs. "That's not the problem — you're more than welcome to stay. But Luna n' I talked it over, and we think you guys can work it out." Prompto stares, and Cindy explains, "Baby, you didn't see your boyfriend’s face. I dunno' what exactly happened between ya, but ya'll are too upset. Couples on the last straw are disturbin'ly calm." 

Prompto runs his tongue over his teeth. He flops his head in his hands. 

"I don't know what to do." 

"You guys are always so happy," Cindy says. "They look at you like you're the sun, Prom." 

Prompto starts, gaze wavering, "I..." 

"Go talk to 'em. If you can't fix it, Luna n' I will help you figure out a place to stay." 

Prompto hugs her, and Cindy squeezes him tight.

"Okay," Prompto says. "Okay." 

 

So Prompto ends up staring down a door once again.

He chews his cheek, and breathes a few times. His backpack is starting to ache his shoulder; his clothes are wrinkled and dirty, and he wants to peel off his skin and fold in on himself.

No. 

It might’ve been fake, but it was real to him.

He deserves answers. He wants hope.

Prompto turns the lock. He waits a moment before pushing open the door. 

They're already looking at him when he enters. Noctis is on his feet, mouth open, and Ignis is in the doorway, disheveled — as if he just sprinted out of bed. Gladio looks like he's seen a ghost.

“Thank the Six,” Gladio breathes.

Prompto feels another wave of sickness, so he holds up a hand before anyone can speak. 

"I'm going to take a shower." He narrows his eyes. "And then you are going to answer my questions." 

There’s a universal sigh of relief among the three of them. 

"Thank you.” Noctis bows his head. Prompto walks past him and into the bedroom, and dumps all his shit. He plugs in his phone, grabs some clothes, and takes the hottest shower on Eos. He washes his hair and spends too long staring at the shower wall. 

When his skin starts to hurt, he towels off and finds fresh clothes. Prompto's heart is thudding in his ears, but he swallows through it. 

They're waiting for him when he walks out. Noctis is picking at the hem of his shirt, and Gladio is fiddling with an empty water bottle, the crackling sound filling up the empty room. Ignis is stiff as a board. 

Prompto takes a seat in the recliner. They all look to him. Prompto taps along his knee, and sniffs. The ice machine runs on the fridge, and Gladio crackles the water bottle. Noctis’s hands are shaking, so he sits on them.

Prompto rips off the bandaid. 

"Was it all a lie?" 

 _"No —_ " they start, simultaneously, but look to each other, startled. Ignis gestures, and Noctis continues, 

"It wasn't fake. N-None of it, Prom. You gotta' - please, we never—" 

"We have been dating since highschool, and there was nothing false about our feelings for you," Ignis says. “We deeply regret that we ever allowed you to feel as such.”

"There's no faking this," Gladio states.  

The excruciating squeeze around Prompto's chest loosens, if only to let him breathe. 

"How did you hide it for so long?" 

"The citadel pays a fine sum of money each year to keep the prince out of local media." Ignis frowns,"It appears that someone could not be swayed with riches, this time." 

Prompto’s stomach sinks. 

Ravus.

He shakes away the feeling, and narrows his eyes, "And I'm just supposed to believe that you get around without  _anyone_ noticing you?" 

Noctis rubs his arm.

"I keep a low profile..." 

"You're a prince! Why are any of you even  _here?!”_

"King Regis wanted Noct to experience a normal life," Gladio says. He doesn't quite meet Prompto's eye, but he fiddles with the bottle. "He wanted 'em to get an education." 

"And what. You guys followed along?" 

"We were offered free schooling to keep up appearances," says Ignis. 

"Appearances," Prompto mumbles bitterly. "Right." 

"We chose what we wanted to study. We're here just like any other student." 

"I'm sorry — " Prompto scrubs his forehead. "I just - I can't trust you. Who are the people I just spent six months of my life with?" 

" _Us!"_ Noctis yells, finally speaking up. "Prompto — we never  _pretended_ anything." 

 _"Then why didn't you tell me?!"_ Prompto shouts. It gets quiet.

Noctis shrinks again, and he bites his lip when it trembles. Prompto sags, the fight bleeding out of him at the look on his face. He doesn’t want this. He stares at them, and his soul aches.

Noctis looks up, determined.

"I'm sorry. Please, just be mad at me—“

“Noct-“

“Gladio and Ignis were only doing what I told them to! They wanted to tell you. Iggy said this would happen and I was an idiot and I..." Noctis rubs at his eyes. "I didn't want you to know." 

Prompto swallows lump in his own throat. 

"...Why?

"It was just...so nice being a person," Noctis sniffs. "I thought you were gonna' figure it out for sure — and then you didn't, and it felt so  _good._ I didn't have to be a prince, I just got to be...me." 

Ignis sighs, as if the words are physically painful. Gladio’s fist is clenched. Prompto’s mouth goes dry. 

"I'm not mad because of who you are," Prompto starts, slowly. "I'm mad because you hid such a huge part of yourselves from me." 

"We understand," Ignis nods. His voice doesn’t sound right. "This is not your typical baggage, and it was not our goal to entangle you in our drama." He smiles sadly, "Well, I for one did not plan on falling for anyone else." 

Prompto's eyes widen.

Noctis bows, head to his knees. 

"I'm sorry. I fucked all this up. I’m so sorry." 

Noctis, a crown prince, is bowing to him. But he's white knuckled and swallowing back tears, and Gladio still can't meet Prompto’s eye, and Ignis looks about ready to throw up. 

 

 

 

 

It's still them. 

 

 

 

 “...The relationship was real?”

“Yes!”

“It wasn’t a joke?”

“Of course not.”

"Then you guys are stupid," Prompto says. They flinch. Prompto puffs a breath, and runs a hand through his hair. "I just don't get it." 

"Huh?" 

"I fell in love with  _you._ If you're one and the same, then why wouldn't I love Prince Noctis too?" 

Noctis's head jerks up. 

Prompto smiles toothlessly, playing with the fabric in the armchair. 

"Or Gladiolus of the Kingsglaive, or Ignis the retainer. Bodyguards — why is it so fitting?" Broken ribs, thrown knives. 

Was it always right in front of his face?

Ignis holds his breath. Gladio finally looks him in the eye, and it’s chilling and grief-wild.

"Prompto — you have to know — I'd never hit you. I'd  _never_ hit you-" 

"I know." 

"God, I just-" Gladio blurts, "-I'm sorry." 

“I as well.”

"I-I didn't really handle it well either," Prompto says. "So. I'm sorry too." 

"Are we okay?" Noctis asks, hopeful. 

A long pause. 

"You have to tell me everything," Prompto says. 

Noctis shoots off the couch like a rocket, and hugs Prompto so hard he falls over the side of the recliner. 

_"Oof!-"_

_"Please don't leave,"_ he begs, and Prompto's own heart breaks a little bit more. “I love you.”

Prompto trembles, "I won't." 

His shoulder hurts from the fall, but he clings back, fingers tight in Noct’s shirt. 

A heavier weight presses down. Prompto barely opens his eyes wide enough to see Ignis flopped over them, and Prompto shouts  _noo!_ but it's too late, Gladio has already squished on top. 

_"Oh god!"_

"Ow!" 

“Dude!”

They tumble over, but Noctis still clings, toes digging into the backs of Prompto’s calves.

"Let go!" Gladio pulls. 

"No!!!" 

“Did you just  _hiss_  at me?”

Noctis bares his teeth, and hisses like a cat.

Prompto starts to laugh. 

 

* * *

 

Iggy is utterly horrified when Prompto says he hasn't eaten since Thursday. He nearly trips over himself to cook something, and yeah, Prompto thinks. They're not so different. 

 

Noctis doesn't want to leave his side, irrationally afraid that Prompto is going to take off again. He assures him otherwise, but Noctis still sits close. 

A prince, he remembers. A  _prince._

But he's Noctis. Sleepy eyed, messy haired Noctis.

 

Gladio catches Prompto before he enters their room. He holds Prompto's face, and bends all the way down to kiss him right on. 

"I didn't say it earlier," he says. "But I love you too." 

Prompto's heart beats around his chest like a ping-poing ball. He leans up on his toes, and kisses him again. It’s soft, and it makes his spine tingle.

"Do you think you could do me a favor?" 

"Anything." 

 

And that's how he gets Gladio to rearrange the furniture in his shared bedroom with Noctis. The side tables get moved to the opposite ends of the room, and the two fulls get pushed together. 

They still have alot to work through. 

But Ignis brings all the blankets he can find, and now they can all fit in one bed without being  _on top_ of each other (but it's kinda' all for not anyways, because they still squish super close in the end). 

Prompto is so tired, he can feel it behind his eyes. Their room is dark, and the streetlights catch on the ceiling, and there's a silent, steady calm to the night, but Prompto knows none of them are asleep. The air feels fragile.

Noctis is fiddling with his fingers, softly feeling over his knuckles and tracing into his palm. He’s trying to be gentle, in case Prompto is asleep — but he opens his eyes, and lets Noctis know otherwise. 

He whispers.

"Is it that bad?" 

A heavy pause.

"What?" Noctis whispers back. 

"Being a prince." 

Noctis hesitates. Gladio is at Noct’s back, fingers drawing circles into his stomach, and Noctis covers his hand and threads their fingers together. 

"No. Yes. It's my duty and my birthright — but sometimes...I dunno'." 

Prompto thinks of all the times Noctis came back from break with stress in his shoulders and sorrow in his eyes. He's only twenty. 

“I never had a lot of friends,” Noctis whispers. “I couldn’t trust people not to use me.” 

“Or throw you away,” Gladio growls.

"Have - have you really known Noctis since you were a child?" 

"I was raised to be his aid," Ignis says, voice only slightly above a whisper. "Gladio and I both." 

"How are you..." 

"Dating?" 

"I came out to my dad as a kid," Noctis says. He reaches forward with his free hand, and taps across some of Prompto’s freckles. "He handled it alright. Dad knows about us." 

Prompto flushes, "And me?" 

"Yeah." 

"And he's okay with it?!" 

"More...tolerant,” Gladio says.

"He fell in love with my mom," Noctis explains. "Dad wanted me to have that too." 

The room goes still. Ignis is at his back, and Prompto can feel his breath against the back of his neck. It's warm with all the body heat; a car drives by outside their apartment. An owl hoots. 

Noctis is fidgety. He feels over Prompto's ears, tangles in his hair, rubs a circle into the bumps of his neck, and dips his fingers below the collar of his shirt. Prompto feels affection in his chest so strong, he worries he might choke on it. 

Experimentally, Prompto rocks his hips forwards. Noctis inhales through his nose. 

They're so close, Prompto just has to tip his head a little to kiss him. Noctis holds his cheek, and kisses him back. It's slow and gentle and wonderful. Noctis slots a leg between his thighs, and Prompto is  _very_ aware of Ignis’s hand sliding up and beneath his shirt, and it gets warmer. 

"Noctis," he breathes. 

"Yes?" 

"Can you fuck me?"

Noctis's eyes pop open. 

"Now?" 

Who knows what time it is. But yeah. Now. 

He wants to be close. He wants to feel him under his skin. He wants to know it's  _real._

Prompto kisses him again, in a wordless answer. Gladio starts to rustle around in the bedside drawer. 

"Are you sure?" Noctis breathes. 

Prompto kisses once, into his neck. He’s so soft.

"Yeah." 

Noctis grabs him by the thigh and hikes it up over his own hip. Gladio passes a bottle to Ignis. Prompto grinds forwards.

"You got 'em Iggy?" 

"Of course," Ignis says, and it's a team effort to get his pants off. He warms the lube in his hands, and Prompto keens into Noctis's shoulder when Ignis slides his index finger in. “That’s it, love,” he whispers. “I have you.”

His fingers are long and nimble and careful, and Prompto rocks back against him, his own hand dipping down into Noctis’s underwear. He’s hot in his hand, and the angle is dry and awkward, but Noctis closes his eyes and squirms, and Prompto gasps when Ignis crooks his fingers.

It stays quiet. Ignis preps him, and Gladio pushes down his own sweats, and Prompto rolls to his back and Noctis crawls between his legs.

He's a sturdy weight that Prompto can't get enough of. Noctis fucks slow and sporadically, and it's more about  _being_ than it is about  _chasing,_ and Prompto pets through his hair, and lets him breathe into his chest. He sounds overwhelmed, and Prompto holds his head, and tries to stay grounded himself. 

Prompto hooks an ankle behind Noctis’s back. He can feel Gladio slide around the edge of the bed to curl up next to Ignis. 

Noctis rolls his hips and pants into his neck. Prompto's back arches, and he exhales steam, tingles rolling down his spine and between his legs. 

“You feel amazing,” Prompto whispers, because it’s true. He dips his fingers to feel where they’re connected, and Noctis shivers in return.

“I can’t —“ Noctis rolls his hips, and nearly folds in on himself. His cheeks are red, and his arms are shaking, and Ignis reaches forwards to skim a hand along his knee.

“Look at him — look at Prompto, love, you’re doing so well.”

“Come on baby,” Gladio hums, and Noctis shoves up and forward, and it makes them both gasp.

They flip partway through, so Prompto can ride down against him and thread their fingers together. Noctis looks up at him with big, beautiful eyes, teeth in his lip and his eyelashes wet, and it twists something deep in his stomach.

Prompto leans down to press their foreheads together.

"It’s okay," he says, meaning more than you know, and Noctis hiccups in his neck and shivers apart. 

 

* * *

 

Prompto sits on a barstool, and watches Ignis cook breakfast. He's chopping peppers for the omelettes, apron at his waist, and the whole apartment smells like eggs and toast. Ignis slides the diced pepper into a pan, and grabs another. 

Prompto narrows his eyes. 

Ignis chops it finely, slides it into a container, and turns to wash his knife in the sink. He doesn't hesitate, or look up, or falter in his motions at all, but he smoothly asks, "May I help you?" 

"The cooking was a good excuse," Prompto says. "I actually believed you." 

Ignis pauses. He looks up, and down, and lies through his teeth. 

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're on about." 

"Show me," Prompto says, so Ignis takes his knife, and hurls it across the room, nailing it into the wall. Prompto blinks, "Alright, well that's not-" Ignis takes three more knives from the drawer, and hits them all in the same spot. "Oh," Prompto says. "Okay, that was hot." 

Ignis snorts, and crosses the room to collect his knives. 

"Self defense classes, huh?" 

"I didn't lie," Ignis says. "They  _were_ classes. Taught by the Kingsglaive, that is." 

Prompto taps his fingers against the counter top. He watches Ignis stand up on the couch to yank one of the knives out of the wall, and asks, 

"Why did I almost get kidnapped." 

Ignis yanks the last knife out of the wall. The look on his face is tight, and Prompto can see him hesitate. 

"The truth," Prompto taps. "Please." 

They promised.

Ignis steps down from the couch and sighs. 

"We returned early to surprise you. But there was ransom note on our door, and we thought you good as dead.”

Prompto's heart sinks. He sits up, and Ignis crosses the room, sliding his knives into the sink. 

"Why?" 

"I think you know why," Ignis says. His face hardens, "Ransom. You were seen in public with the prince, and were easy bait." He looks down, and bites, “I was a fool to assume you’d be safer without us.”

Prompto feels a little sick again. 

"What happened to those guys?"

"Taken care of," Noctis says, stepping out of the bedroom. He's in sweats rolled at the ankles, and he's missing a shirt, but he has a beanie on for some reason. Despite his frumpiness, the look in his eye is deadly. 

"Oh," Prompto says. 

"Prompto," Ignis sighs. "The life we come from is a dangerous one. I can't promise your safety, and that..." Ignis trails off, and Noctis quietly sits at the table, arms folded. Ignis clears his throat. "Well. We understand if that's unacceptable." 

"Oh cut the BS," Prompto scoffs. He opens his arms, "Come here." 

Ignis does, hackles up, and Prompto plucks off his glasses, and squishes his face in his hands. Ignis looks startled. His eyes are a wide emerald green. 

"I'm not leaving." 

"You could be hurt again.”

"Buy me a gun.”

Noctis laughs from the table. 

"Very well," Ignis says, and wiggles his hands into Prompto's sides, making him giggle. Prompto squirms, and Ignis kisses his cheek, his forehead and his temple, before turning around and returning to his eggs. 

Gladio steps through the front door, gym bag over his shoulder, and he takes one look into the apartment and asks,  

"What's with the hole in the wall?" 

  

* * *

 

A weeek ago, Prompto thought it impossible to go back to normal. But it's not, really. 

 

He has class on Monday and Tuesday and Thursday, and when Friday comes around, they meet Noctis at the campus gate, and they walk to the pizza parlor. It's full of life; music and chatter and people wobbling on barstools as they laugh. They're in a rounded booth, and Noctis sits with his knees up against the table, slouched in the seat.   

"Okay, but technically speaking, what is stopping me?"

"Morals?" 

"Money." 

"I got citadel bank and no fuckin' conscience, next." 

"Ignis," Prompto points. "Ignis is what's stopping you." 

Noctis hesitates. 

Ignis nods, "Correct. I won't allow you to turn our only bathtub into a chemical nightmare." 

"But theoretically," Noctis gestures, hands out, "If I bought every single bathbomb in Lush and dumped them in a tub, you'd smell good forever. It's math." 

"Besides the fact that you'd be covered in glitter for the next seven years," Gladio says. 

"Your point? I'm already gay." 

"You _would_  smell amazing _,_ " Prompto says. 

"I disagree," Ignis says. "One bomb alone can fume the entire apartment." 

"I think we should go for it," Gladio says. 

 _"No._ " 

"Gladio's in," Noctis says. "This is a democracy — we can overrule if you're in, Prompto." 

Ignis looks like he wants to cry. He drops his voice, 

"This isn't a democracy, Noct. You are royalty."

"Shit, you're right. So the only man alive who can tell me  _no_ is my Dad." Noctis slaps the table, "Meeting adjured. Someone look up when Lush closes." 

"Oh but darling, by what rules are you playing?" Ignis flips the salt shaker around in his hand, nimble in his fingers, quick enough that salt doesn't spill. He grins, glasses catching in the light.  "As your retainer,  _I_ am the only one capable of apprehending you without legal consequence." 

Gladio cackles, "Translation. Ignis is going to tackle your ass to the floor before you make it one foot in." 

"My original statement stands," Prompto pipes. 

"You learn quickly, my love," Ignis says, and reaches over to play with the hairs at the base of his neck. Prompto leans into him, humming when Ignis uses his nails. Noctis narrows his eyes. 

"You're a traitor."

"Listen, you're going about this all wrong," Prompto says. "You have to dump the bathbombs somewhere that Ignis doesn't  _live._ "  

Ignis pats the top of his head in agreement. 

"I wonder if there's a camera on the campus fountain," Gladio mumbles. 

Ignis sighs, "Why do you have such a strong desire for this?" 

"Because I want to see what color it turns," Noctis says. "And I also wanna' know if I can pass out from the smell of thirty sexbombs alone." 

"I will answer your questions now. A horrid shade of brown, and yes." Ignis pauses. "Noctis, quit it. Feeling me up under the table won't persuade me." 

"This is the worst birthday ever," Noctis huffs. 

"Your birthday is in August." 

"Your point?" 

Their pizza comes, and Gladio hands the waitress a tip. 

"Thanks big guy," Prompto beams, and takes a slice. 

“Yeah, thanks.”

"Yer' welcome kids." 

Noctis dips his pizza in ketchup, and Ignis looks the other way, breathing deep for patience. 

"So..." Prompto fiddles with his straw. "Can I ask something?" 

"Mm?" 

"Sure." 

"You don't actually have to tell me this if it's personal. But did you leave during break because of — um. Citadel stuff?" 

"Yes," Ignis says. 

"It wasn't life or death or anythin'," Gladio says. "Just politics." 

"You can tell him," Noctis shrugs, mouth full. "There were spies in the Kingsglaive." 

Ignis elbows him. Noctis muffles, "What? We had to go testify." 

Prompto scratches his neck, "Oh jeez. Yeah, that makes some sense."  

"A terrorist group took advantage of our absence for the hearing," Ignis says. He gestures to Prompto, "Hence..." Prompto nods. 

Noctis swallows, face turning serious. He peeks around Ignis, "Did that scar?" 

"Nope," Prompto knocks on his head. "Got all ma' brains and everything." 

"I thought we were gonna' match," Gladio offers a smile. 

"Oh! Speaking of!" Prompto reaches for his backpack. He digs for a plastic bag, and hands it over to Gladio. "Guess who had brown?" 

Gladio opens the bag, and gasps gleefully, pulling it to his chest. 

"No." 

He pulls out a kitty headband, and Ignis and Noctis start laughing. 

"Welcome to the headband club!" 

“Fuck my degree, this is the recognition I deserve.” 

"Prompto!" 

The conversation comes to a dead standstill. The table next to them has left their tip and filed out the door — but one person hovers as they pass the table. Ignis tenses, but Prompto throws out a hand to keep him back. 

"Ravus," Prompto greets. Noctis's jaw drops. 

Ravus grins snakelike, "I see you're back with your little musketeers. How did your fifteen minutes of fame treat you?" 

Yikes, the mood plummets  _bad_. The whole bodyguard thing makes sense more and more by the day, because the power of Ignis and Gladio’s combined glowers could honest to god stop a man’s heart. Ravus’s expression doesn’t waver, because apparently he’s suicidal. 

"Listen," Prompto starts, "I'm really over this whole thing. I don't know what you did, but I don't care anymore." 

Ravus blinks. Prompto laughs. 

"And man, I kinda' ought to thank you." He reaches around Ignis's shoulder, and pats Nocts's arm with his knuckles. "We're way closer now." 

Gladio puffs up, proud. Ignis stares, catlike. 

Noctis is furously mouthing  _that's Ravus? THAT is Ravus?_

Ignis subtly smacks him quiet. 

 "I'll admit," Ravus drawls, grin slipping. "I didn't foresee this. You must be so  _desperate_ for attention, you don't even care when you've been lied to." 

Gladio and Ignis jerk forward, but Prompto keeps them back again. "No. It's-" Prompto uses Ignis's shoulder to raise up on the seat, leaning over the table. He extends his hand, "I don't want any more beef with you, okay? Let’s be done with this." 

Ravus looks down at his hand with disgust. Ignis and Gladio simultaneously glare, and Ravus reluctantly shakes. 

"I could never understand you," Ravus says, pulling back his hand. “That’s why I found our friendship to be so fascinating. Always so forgiving in the face of pain.”

"Is there anything else we can help you with?" Gladio snaps. Prompto sits back in the seat. 

"No," Ravus stares. He looks to Noctis. "Enjoy what time you have left in the shadow." 

"You're up next, buddy," Noctis huffs. Ravus scowls, and turns away, meeting up with the girl that was waiting by the door. He throws an arm over her shoulders, and the parlor door shuts. 

Prompto blinks, "Huh?" 

"I'm so proud of you," Gladio ruffles his hair. 

"Yes — that was very mature." 

"That is the Ravus he's been talking about?" Noctis hisses, slapping Ignis's arm. "Dude!" 

"I know," Ignis sighs. 

"Wait — " Prompto stares. "What's up?" 

Noctis looks to Gladio, who raises his hands in a  _I know as much as you_ kind of way. Noctis turns to Ignis. 

"Do we tell him?" 

"I didn't think it was my right." 

"But he needs to know." 

"Needs to know what?!" Prompto yips. 

"Tell him," Noctis says. 

 Ignis raises his eyebrows in a silent look — but relents. He leans back to Prompto, and cups a hand around his ear, whispering below the music. 

Prompto inhales. 

_"He's the prince of WHAT??"_

 

* * *

 

He doesn't sit on the balcony much. It faces the road, rather than his bedroom view of the campus park, so it's not much to look at — unless you like the sound of street traffic. It's kinda' lulling him right now, so Prompto rests his chin on his knees, and sits in the plastic chair to watch the cars drive by. 

It's chilly, but it's not so bad. It kinda' feels good. It helps to clear his head.

The sliding door opens and closes, and someone quietly sits next to him — so naturally, it can only be Ignis. 

He doesn't speak. There's a flick of a lighter, and Prompto jerks in surprise. 

Ignis lights a cigarette, cupping his hand so the wind doesn't blow out the bud. He holds it in, and turns his head to exhale, fingers hovering to flick over the ashtray on the patio table. 

"I didn't know you smoked," Prompto says. 

"It's not a habit," Ignis says. "Anymore." 

"Oh," Prompto nods. "I figured I would've tasted it on you by now." 

"I'm particular about it." 

"Bad day?" 

"Not at all." 

Prompto doesn't push. He stares back out on the street, and watches the corner light turn from red to green. Ignis rests his elbow on the armchair, and smokes methodically. He manages to make it look good, somehow. Prompto never even noticed the ashtray on the table. He's starting to think he doesn't notice anything at all. 

"Ignis?" 

"Mmm." 

"I think I'm an idiot." 

Ignis is careful in his words.

"Why do you say so?" 

"Ravus." Prompto says. "Noctis. You." 

Ignis smirks, "Not Gladio?" 

"Nah. I really thought he was in the mafia." 

Ignis chokes on a laugh, coughing once to clear his throat. He flicks more ash, and then extends his arm across the table. It's been a while, but Prompto takes the cigarette and drags a couple puffs before passing it back. It doesn't hurt any less than he remembers. Ignis smokes once more, and then says, 

"Prompto my dear, don't feel inferior for not knowing what people wished to hide from you. You'll only hurt yourself more." 

"I just — feel so  _stupid."_  Prompto rubs his forehead. "Ravus said he didn't post selfies because it was against his  _religion._ Who buys that? Like seriously?" 

Ignis sighs. He stubs out the rest of the cigarette, even though it's only halfway through. He turns, and draws his full attention. 

"Prompto, I wish to personally strangle every person that's taken advantage of your benevolent trust, myself included. Please don't confuse kindness with naivety. At your very core you are  _kind —_  andthat is why you don't question those you trust. It is at the very root of the word." 

Prompto doesn't know what to say. He stares, mouth agape, and swallows against the heartbeat in his throat. 

"That's a good thing?"

"It's what I love the most about you," Ignis says. Prompto can’t resist; he leans halfway over the table, and Ignis meets him for a kiss. He tastes bitter and sweet all at once. 

"You're so good with words," Prompto mumbles, pulling back. 

Ignis smiles, and stands. "I ought to brush my teeth before Gladio finds me out here. He hates when I smoke." 

Prompto rolls his eyes, "Like we don't know about the pot under his bed." 

Ignis laughs, "My words exactly." He doesn't ask Prompto to follow him, but there's an open invitation in the way he hovers in the doorway. Prompto follows. He thinks he always will. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its not perfect but whatever. one more chapter ^^ thanks for all the kudos!


	9. Chapter 9

Prompto only owns one tie, and it’s a clip-on.

It had a Star Wars print on it, and he thought it was cute...so... 

He holds it in his hand like a dead fish, and guiltily presents it to Ignis — and Ignis looks down at him with a sad, sad gaze of disappointment. 

"Come," Ignis says. "You can borrow one of mine." 

He pulls Prompto into the bedroom by his shirt cuff. He steps into their closet, and returns with a shiny satin tie; it's red and expensive, and it doesn't look like that should be anywhere near Prompto's body. 

"Here," Ignis hands it to him. Prompto doesn't grab it. He shifts his gaze, embarrassed. Ignis doesn't sigh or laugh or show any indication on his face. He just stares a moment longer, and says, "Step into the bathroom, please." 

He turns Prompto towards the mirror. The white-lights are much brighter in here, and Prompto blinks, startled when Ignis wraps the tie around him from behind. 

"It's quite simple," Ignis says, over his shoulder. "Fold it once under, then over-" he pulls it through the loop, the tops of his fingers brushing against his neck. He meets Prompto's eyes in the mirror, and Prompto is always stunned by the green clarity under bright lights. "-then, thread it tight." He carefully pulls the knot snug against Prompto's throat. He flips down his collar, and smooths it down with his fingers. 

"I look weird," Prompto says, fighting a blush. 

"Very handsome, I say." Ignis reaches around to peck his cheek, and then he's off again, tracking down Noctis and dragging him out of bed. Prompto adjusts the tie, and stares at his reflection. He doesn't look like himself. Black button down and slacks and a belt that's tied on the last hole. It's kind of uncomfortable. 

 

But that’s okay, because they're all here for Ignis anyways. 

Prompto owns maybe  _one_ nice shirt, and it took him all afternoon to figure out how to work an iron. Noctis didn't even bother; Prompo can still see the creases when he lifts his arm. 

They're at one of those fancy wine-tasting restaurants, where you get a sampler and different foods to pair it with. Prompto doesn't know jack  _shit_ about wine — all he knows is that he likes his alcohol sugary enough to uh, not taste like alcohol, but Prompto is just uncultured like that. 

Ignis is going on about _Château Latour_ and it's revolutionary use of  _stainless steel vats_  — and bless Gladio, he's trying so hard to be interested, but he samples another wine and says, "Tastes like wine." 

Honestly, Prompto hasn't been paying attention to a damn thing all evening. One of the buttons on Gladio's shirt looks like it's begging for mercy, and he's rolled up his sleeves to show off his tattoos, and his hair is slicked back, and he looks  _so_ fucking delicious.

Not to say Ignis and Noct don't look amazing. Ignis looks like he would fit right in with the modernistic decor and the classy intellectuals, and Noctis has on dress slacks and a belt and it really works for him. 

Except—

"Hey Prom," Noctis elbows him. He slides over a drink. "Try this." 

"What is it?" 

"My new invention. I call it the Spittake." 

Prompto takes a sip, and the very  _moment_ it hits his tongue, he nearly sprays it all over the table. He coughs into his hand, and his eyes start to burn. 

"Oh god-" he cries. 

"Noctis," Gladio hisses, but Ignis doesn't look any more or less surprised, as if he'd come to expect this at the very least. He sips another sample of wine, and contently plucks a cube off cheese off the center of the table. 

Prompto is still coughing, rubbing his nose and trying not to cause a scene in such a fancy restaurant. 

"Now now. It can't be that bad." 

Prompto passes the glass over, and Ignis fearlessly tries it. He doesn't show any indication on his face, but he sets the glass down and says, "That is. God awful." 

Noctis starts to laugh, and takes his turn at the cheese. 

Gladio huffs, amused, "What'd you do? Pour every sample in there?" 

"Yup." 

"Is your throat burning too?”

"Yes," says Ignis, and takes another slice of cheese. 

"You really shouldn't take us places like this," says Gladio.

"Yeah. You need some classier friends," Noctis nods, as if he isn't the  _Prince of Lucis;_ the  _top_ of the class system. He dips his cheese cube in the wine, and then eats it. 

Ignis hums, "But I don't wish to date my associates. And it wouldn't be nearly as entertaining." 

"That's for sure," Prompto laughs. 

"Although," Ignis says, "Noct, If you dip one more ricotta in that Merlot I am going castrate you  _slowly._ I will not sharpen my knives beforehand."  

Noctis pauses, and slinks back down in his chair. Gladio laughs.

Prompto snickers, "What's your deal? Aren't you supposed to know-" he drops his voice, "-like, princely manners and shit." 

"He's a real charm back home," Gladio says. "All propriety and total business—"

"—But a right piece of shit once away from the public eye," Ignis finishes. Noctis shrugs. 

Prompto reaches over to pat Noct's leg, "Well, Hannah Montana has to take off the wig sometime." 

Noctis laughs a loud  _ha-HA!-_ and then covers his mouth, turning away before anyone in the restaurant can stare. Prompto smiles, because no matter how long it’s been, Prompto will always love the sound of his laugh.

The samples are removed from their table, and replaced with their (way too expensive) entrees. Prompto made the mistake of looking at the price list, and now he can't comprehend that every bite of this steak is  _at least_ thirteen dollars each. He tries to enjoy it without feeling guilty. 

Prompto gets halfway through his dinner, before he realizes someone has been speaking to him. 

"Huh?" 

"I said your name three times," Noctis laughs. "Is the food that good?" 

"No — sorry — I mean, it's fucking  _awesome._ " Prompto gestures with his fork, "But I'm on the edge of my seat right now. I think that button is finally gonna' jump ship." 

Gladio looks down at his shirt, and frowns. Ignis tries to reach over and fix it for him, but it doesn't help much. 

"We need to get you a bra," Noctis says. "What are you, a C-cup?" 

"B, at the most," Ignis says. Gladio glares at him in a  _how could you betray me like this_ kind of way, and Ignis's eyes smile behind his glasses. 

Prompto never thought he'd end up on a three-way date in upstate Insomnia, eating a seventy-dollar meal and arguing about a man's bra size, but you know what they say about college. 

No, really. What do they say? Prompto doesn't remember. 

He's kinda sleepy by the time they pay. They've been here like, a solid two hours, and all the alcohol is starting to make him tired. As soon as they're outside the restaurant, Prompto loosens his tie, and shakes out his hair. 

Arms wrap around him from behind. 

"You're so cute," Noctis coos, waddling to keep walking behind him. Prompto laughs, swaying back and forth with him. 

 Gladio turns to Ignis, "Hey, do we get to give him his present now?" 

"A present!" Prompto gasps. 

Ignis looks around the parking lot. The Regalia is parked further away from the restaurant, and it's late in the night— so the lot is emptier than usual. 

"I suppose," Ignis says. 

"Ohh!" Noctis hooks his chin over Prompto's shoulder, and continues to waddle. "I'm so excited, I almost spoiled it twice last week." 

"What is it for?" 

"You'll see," Gladio says. 

Ignis clicks the keys to the Regalia, and reaches into the trunk. Gladio leans up against the car door, and Noctis finally lets go of his waist. 

"This is from all of us," Ignis says, pulling out a black box. It's a decent size, and it weighs solid in his hand. Prompto gives him a skeptical look, and Gladio nods,

"Open it dude." 

Prompto clicks the side latch. It opens like a suitcase; red velour is lined in the inside, and Prompto  _gasps._

"No!!" 

He shoves the box on the roof of the car, and pulls out a  _gorgeous_ silver revolver. 

"Daddy came through," Noctis grins. 

"Oh my god, she's beautiful," Prompto swoons. The panel is a polished maplewood, and the barrel is six-inches stainless. He tips it in the streetlight to catch the glimmer.  "Wow — you didn't have to." 

"I'll sleep better knowing you have it," Gladio smiles. “Can never be too safe.”

Ignis nods, "This week we can take you to the shooting range." 

"Yeah, I'm not much of a shot, but Iggy can teach you how to use it." 

"Oh babe, I come from redneck country." Prompto looks down the sight, and pops open the cylinder, counting how many rounds it'll hold before he snaps his wrist, and clicks the cylinder back in. He flips it around his finger to test the weight, and grins, "I know how to use it." 

A steady pause. 

“Oh.”

Gladio blinks, "Is anyone else hard?" 

"Me." 

"Me." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

It's the quiet things that are worth their weight in gold. 

Prompto loves the physicality. The side hugs and deep kisses and sitting close on the couch. He loves the friendship, homework help and late night video games and family dinners. He loves being at the center, but he loves being at the side too. 

It's in the small stuff. Prompto is learning to quiet down and  _watch —_ because this new life he lives is beautiful and heartbreaking all at once. 

Ignis looks at Noctis like he's his whole world. He slaps Noct’s wrist and reminds him to shower and kisses the tops of his eyes when he passes out in the armchair. 

Gladio and Noctis are heavyhanded. Pats on the back and lovebites and hair-pulling; but they have this trust in each other that Prompto has never seen anywhere else. Noctis would run off a building blindfolded, if he knew Gladio was there to catch him. 

These are facts, and Prompto saw the root of it before any of this even began _._

It’s Gladio and Ignis that manage to surprise him. Prompto doesn't always see their love at face value, but he realized he was never looking in the right places. One moment it's Ignis combing out Gladio's wet hair, Gladio sitting between his knees, nodding off to the sound of the blowdryer. The next it's Gladio kneeling at his feet, looking up like  _Ignis_ is the prince. They flip so quick, if you blink you'll miss it. 

Prompto isn't missing it this time. 

He presses his back against the wall, Noctis's head in his lap, and watches Ignis undress Gladio on the other bed. 

They could move to the megabed (the newly patented name) in the other room, but Ignis is undoing Gladio's zipper with his teeth, fingers spanning up Gladio's abs as he moves his mouth downwards, so there's definitely no hitting  _pause_ on this. Yeah, hey, forget porn. 

Prompto absently swirls Noct's hair around his fingers, and bites his free hand when Gladio pulls Ignis up by his shirt collar, and kisses him open-mouthed. 

They're a stark beauty. Ignis in his pale skin and his long limbs and fuller lips — and Gladio, rugged and sculpted and it's a ping-pong between them, towering authority versus brute strength. 

Gladio is soft for Ignis, but you have to know what to look for. 

"Do you wanna' fuck me?" he asks, hands on Iggy's ass. Fucking fuck, isn’t that a mental picture for the ages. 

"Next time," Ignis smiles, and closes his eyes briefly when Gladio squeezes his grip. 

Prompto doesn't get to see Ignis naked nearly as often as he'd like. He's  _so_ friggin’ pretty — Noctis lifts his head, and gives Prompto a look. 

"Sorry," he whispers, but Ignis is kneeling above Gladio's waist, shoving his fingers in Gladio's mouth and prepping himself all at once, and Prompto is hard as  _fuck_ , as Noct is now aware. 

Noctis looks at him like a know-it-all; he sits up, pulling Prompto's legs apart and leaning heavy along his side. He shows him off like a goddamn toy. 

"Hey guys-" Noctis calls, and they look his way, “First time in the front row.” 

Prompto huffs, squirming, 

_"Dude-"_

Ignis blows his hair out of his face, squinting without his glasses, and Gladio half-smiles. He absently wets his fingers with lube, and purrs,

"Hey Prom, you wanna' see something really great?" 

He curls in along Ignis's fingers, and Ignis jerks, a moan all but ripping out of him, head lulling along his shoulder.

Prompto gasps. 

"Wow." 

"Quit it, you tease," Ignis scolds. Gladio beams up at him, pulling out his fingers. 

"You good babe?" 

"Mm," Ignis slaps his leg playfully, and rolls to his back. Prompto is utterly in love with their familiarity.

Gladio slides up to kneel between his thighs, and Ignis immediately hooks a leg over his shoulder and adjusts himself on the pillows — and Gladio rolls on a condom, saying,  _choo choo all aboard —_ and Ignis tries tries to break his nose with his knee.  

"Bloody arsehole — fuck on with it or leave," Ignis snaps. 

Gladio laughs, catching his leg and hooking his arm around Ignis’s steady thigh; he slides in hard, and watches Ignis arch up off the bed like a cat. Ignis jams his heel into Gladio's back and  _groans,_ and Prompto has never seen something so stunning and sexy all at once. 

Noctis proudly lays his head against Prompto's, and absently plays with his fingers. 

"You won't get used to it," Noctis tells him. 

"No shit," Prompto replies. 

Gladio snorts a laugh, and he's lovingly rough with Ignis, pistoning with enough strength to shove Ignis up the bed — but if anyone can take it, it's  _Ignis,_ fuck. Prompto’s eyes are so blessed tonight.

 _"Oh —_ that's it love," Ignis sighs, leg falling into the crook of Gladio's arm. "Harder, can you?" 

"Can I?" Gladio scoffs. There's a resounding slap that's lewd and loud and it sounds painful, but Ignis moans through his teeth. Prompto is sweating fucking bullets. 

"Today you will learn a very important lesson about Iggy's flexibility," Noctis says, while Gladio folds Ignis halfway on his side and pulls up his leg in a way that should  _hurt._ Prompto snaps his head back against the wall — which,  _ow,_ but unimportant. Ignis's eyes are rolled back and Gladio is looking at him like Ignis is his complete  _undoing —_ and it's way too much. 

Prompto crams his hand between his legs. Noctis grins, and mimics him. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

"What's going on?" 

"Isn't that a popular phrase around here," Gladio says. 

Noctis shuts the door behind him, and raises his eyebrows. Prompto bites his tongue in concentration, and screws off the lid of the next nail polish. Gladio shifts in the chair, and Prompto snaps, "Sit still! I'm almost done." 

“Alright! Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

"I'm not going to repeat myself," Noctis says. 

"My photography assignment is  _robust color,"_ Prompto explains, and paints Gladio's thumbnail blue. "So I wanted to photograph nail polish." 

"And you said  _yes?"_

"Why not?" Gladio snaps his gum. 

Noctis slowly sits at the table. He watches silently as Prompto carefully wipes away the excess with his own thumbnail, and moves onto the next color. 

"Can you do mine?" 

"Yeah!" Prompto beams. "Choose a co-" 

"Black.”

"Why don't you do it yourself?" Gladio grunts. 

"Because I always get it everywhere but on my nails," Noctis deadpans. "It ends up on my face and on my phone and on the dog I don't even have." 

"I can do it for you!  _Something_ good had to come out of my painting 101 class." Prompto then calls, "Iggy! Do you want your nails done?" 

An echo back, "I suppose." 

 

Prompto can’t fight the smile. 

 

It feels better, these days. Sometimes Ignis and Gladio talk about Crownsguard business, and other days Noctis curls up in his lap and whines about all the paperwork he has to send back home — and they're learning to lean on him, and Prompto is learning to let them in. Amid the prince talk and the stressful school days, they have study sessions and movie marathons and it's the oddest blend of two different worlds. 

Prompto didn't sign up for all this, but he thinks it was worth the tears.

"Oh I look so cool," Noctis says, examining his nails. 

"You look like you just stepped out of a Hot Topic." 

 _"You_ look like a betty-boop cake." 

"That's a compliment," Gladio snuffs. 

"I want red," Ignis says, and Prompto bites his lip and grins. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis wraps his arms around Ignis as he cooks, face buried in his shoulder, mumbling to him sleepily as he stirs seasonings into a soup. 

"Hey, where's the baby?" Gladio asks. 

"Our room. Why?" 

"Cause we're going to the gym. Come on Prom!!" 

"Coming!" Prompto calls, and jogs out of the room in leggings and a crop-top. 

Gladio snaps his head back against the doorframe so loud, Prompto nearly jumps. He almost asks if he's okay, but then he remembers that time Gladio headbutted a guy into unconsciousness. Gladio looks back at him. 

"Oh my  _god —_ are you serious?" 

"Huh?" Prompto smiles, totally faking innocence. What? He might be an idiot, but he’s not stupid. 

"I can't do this," Gladio says, eyes shut. Noctis starts to laugh. 

"Hey, it's not fair," Prompto points at him, gathering up his keys. "You walk around shirtless all friggin' day like  _la-de-da don't mind me and my sexy muscles._  I'm allowed this." 

Ignis snorts. 

"Baby, you're allowed this every day all day forever," Noctis says. "My eyeballs thank you." Prompto shoots him finger guns. 

"Alright," Gladio groans. "Let's get this over with." 

"Soup will be done by eight," Ignis says. "Don't let anyone stare at him too long." 

"I'll do my fuckin' best," Gladio grits, and locks the door behind them. Prompto starts to laugh maniacally. 

"You think you've won?" Gladio leers down at him, smug. "I invented this game, baby." 

"The game of being the biggest tease on Eos? That's a two-player RPG, my dude." 

"You're on," Gladio says — and that's how Prompto ends up here, running way too fast and praying to the gods that he doesn't get hard in these pants. Gladio is wiping his face with the collar of his shirt, lifting it up so you can see his fuckin' happy trail, and he's sweating all the way down his neck and Prompto should've never started something he couldn't finish. 

Gladio looks at him, and smirks. Prompto slows down to a walk, and then turns off the treadmill. 

No. This is  _on._

He heads over to the yoga mats, and starts to stretch. Thank the Six it isn't busy today, because he hears Gladio choke on water. 

Alright, okay. Prompto still has a leg in this. He will  _win._  

Gladio starts lifting weights, bar over his back, squatting as he does reps, and Prompto tries to look at literally anything else. Oh, hello ground.

He bends over and presses his hands to the floor. He's kinda' buying time; he doesn't have much else to do, and his legs are already jelly from the treadmill. He looks at Gladio upside down from between his legs, and Prompto giggles, reading his face oh so well. The tick in his jaw, the heavy line of his brow. 

Prompto slides down to the floor, and stretches. He can't quite slide into a split like Ignis can (heck don't even think about that right now), but he can lean all the way forwards, and his shirt is riding up to his pecs, but that's kinda' the point. 

He gets distracted when Gladio starts curling weights. Jeez, his tattoos look so good. Gladio meets his eye in the mirror, and Prompto jokingly flashes him a nip, and Gladio looks to the ceiling, as if he's praying for patience. 

Prompto twists back up and stands. He stretches his arms, and saunters over. This is  _so_ much more fun now that they're dating. 

"What?" Prompto smiles. 

"You're so dead," Gladio says, setting down the weight, and wiping his face with a towel. 

"Me?" Prompto twists, laughing. He doesn't feel sexy at all, but Gladio is looking at him like he's fresh meat.  "What is it you guys do?" Prompto reaches around and slaps Gladio's butt, "Nice gains bro. Real good hustle." 

Gladio snatches his waist, and yanks him forward, glaring down at him. 

"You get a two minute start. Go." 

Prompto hauls ass out the door. 

He's laughing and wheezing and sore from the run. Gladio catches up to him by the apartment lobby, and hauls him over his shoulder while he hikes up the stairs. Prompto playfully hits at his back, laughing, "No! No fair!" 

"You're so in for it you don't even  _know,_ " Gladio growls, but there's a smile in his voice, and it makes Prompto laugh. 

They somehow manage to get the door open. Gladio all but kicks it in, and he heaves Prompto down on the couch. Prompto squirms,  _still_ laughing — but he chokes on a hiccup, and Gladio kisses him  _hot._

"Fuck. You."

"What's the big deal?" Prompto lifts a leg up and around so Gladio is sitting between his thighs. 

"You have no idea how hot you are, and it kills me inside," Gladio says. "It kills me." 

Hands grip his thighs. The fabric of the sport leggings makes a very specific sound, and it tingles his skin as Gladio digs in his thumbs. Prompto gets goosebumps. 

"Thank you, I think," he breathes. 

Gladio lifts an eyebrow. He spreads Prompto's legs even more, and palms down between his legs, and Prompto gasps. The fabric is so thin — it traps his dick against his navel, but he can still feel  _so much._

"I suppose..." Gladio starts, leaning up and over him, to speak against his ear. "In lamens terms. You could call this a kink." His beard scratches his cheek, and his hands are so  _big,_ and Prompto goes from giggly to horribly aroused in seconds. 

"What are you gonna' do about it, big guy?" Prompto teases, a little out of breath. 

Gladio grins. He pushes up his shirt — and they're still sticky and musky from the gym, but Gladio licks a line down his chest, and Prompto inhales. Gladio noses down into his crotch, where you can  _literally_ see the outline of how hard he is, and he presses his tongue flat through the fabric and Prompto moans through his teeth. 

Gladio's thumbs dig into his hip-flexers. Prompto's entire body jerks, as if shocked. 

"Fuck," Gladio breathes. His hair is sticking to his forehead, and Prompto pushes it away with his palm. He drags him by the scuff of his neck, yanking for an off center kiss. Gladio groans into his teeth, and Prompto swallows it. Prompto tugs harder. Gladio rumbles. It’s magic.

His brain gets with the program; Prompto wiggles down, and grinds right into Gladio's crotch, and it's  _a-ma-zing_. He's only in sweatpants, and Prompto can feel  _so much._ He's so hard, right against his thigh; Prompto grinds again, and heat stirs in his lower stomach. 

"Ah -" he yips, when Gladio grinds back. Prompto's head falls, "Gladio-" 

The bedroom door flies open, "Hey! We're gonna eat- oh." Noctis stops. 

"You better prep him in that shower," Gladio growls. "Because I'm going to fuck the life out of him in a minute." 

"Sir yes sir," Noctis salutes. 

"Oh god yes," Prompto raises his arms above his head in celebration. "I'm not gonna' walk tomorrow." 

"Or the day after," Gladio slaps his butt as he trots away, and Noctis gathers him in his arms, and kisses the taste of Gladio out of his mouth. 

Noctis bends him over in the shower, and Ignis steps in to help — and later, Gladio folds him in his lap and splits Prompto's world straight in half. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes Noctis will text him after class on Tuesdays, and they'll meet for sandwiches at the deli.

It's only two blocks across the road,  _and_ it's next to that yummy boba place, so more often than not they’ll make two stops on the way home. Noctis will share his earbuds and Prompto will shove his hand in Noct’s pocket, and it feels good.

Prompto didn't get any texts today, so he messaged  _sandwiches????_ and got nothing, so he shrugged it off and went home. 

He's (finally) doing his laundry when Cindy calls. He plugs in his headphones and folds? his sheets while Cindy chatters on about how her homework is  _'right bullshit. just right bullshit'_

Ignis is starting on dinner when Prompto has decided to just say fuck it, and roll his sheets into a giant ball. Some pans clatter in the kitchen, and Prompto found a sheet that's still warm, so he presses his face into it and muffles,  _"_ Mmm, but you aced the test, didn't you?"

_"Yes but that's not the point! I got a D Prompto! Me! I've been fixin' cars since I could walk."_

The front door clicks open. Prompto turns, lowering the sheet. He grins, "Hi Noct!" 

"Hello darling," Ignis greets. 

Noctis steers past them both. His teeth are clenched and his eyes are red rimmed. He throws open the door to the other bedroom, and slams it shut. Prompto blinks, startled. 

_"Wawas that?"_

"Oh dear," Ignis sighs. 

"I gotta go-" Prompto says. "Meet you tomorrow?”

_"Okie dokie-"_

He hangs up, and gives Ignis a look. Ignis turns the burner off, and sets the pot aside. 

"What was that?" Prompto blinks. 

"He had a meeting with his counselor today," Ignis says. "She is of the few administrators that know of who Noctis is. They were supposed to discuss the future of his education today.”

"Mmm." Prompto looks to the door. "Then that's not good." 

"I'll speak with him," Ignis says. He proceeds carefully into the bedroom, and shuts it behind him. Prompto stands awkwardly, rubbing at his arm. His heart sinks a little, and he slowly folds the rest of his laundry. He listens for any shouting, but it's deathly silent. Maybe he should text Gladio and tell him to come home early from the gym. 

Prompto sits among his laundry piles. He sighs. Ignis opens the door, and steps out. 

"I've calmed him down a bit," Ignis says. "I think you ought to speak with him." 

"Me??" Prompto blinks. He's not good at any of this stuff — it's always Ignis and Gladio that he runs to. 

"Yes," Ignis says, returning to the kitchen. "I think he needs you." 

“But—“

“Do you trust me?” Ignis stares. 

Of course he does.

Prompto's heart starts to beat in his stomach. Ignis silently turns the burner back on.

Prompto approaches, and peers through the door; Noctis is curled up in Ignis's bed. 

Prompto sniffs, and shuts the door behind him. There's only one lamp on. 

"Hi," he starts. 

"Go away, I'm not in the mood," Noctis grunts. "I don't want to say something and hurt your feelings." 

"Well..." Prompto starts, "that's okay. I know you won't mean it." 

Noctis startles, and Prompto climbs alongside him, wiggling under the blankets. 

"Do you wanna' talk about it?" 

A sigh.

"I don't know," Noctis scrubs through his hair. Prompto sets a hand by his neck, and Noctis's hands fall to his own lap. 

"The meeting didn't go well?" 

"It's not— I  _just —"_  he huffs. "They want me to declare a major by next week." 

"Oh, jeez. Do you know what you want to do?" 

"Yes? No? I don't know!" Noctis snaps. "I just — I didn't want to think about it. Ignis and Gladio are graduating this year, and then  _I'll_ be graduating, and then everything will be different." Noctis deflates, the fight bleeding out of him. "I don't want things to change. I don't know how to be a king. Gladio and Ignis will stay because of  _duty._ But __ I don't know if you—" he bites off. 

Prompto breathes in. Noctis groans, and presses his forehead to his knees. Prompto makes a split decision. 

"I'll be right back," he blurts, and scrambles out of bed.

Noctis stares after him wide eyed, and Prompto scampers into their other bedroom, reaching under the bed to dig through his bin. He finds the yellow bag he's looking for, and bounces back into the bedroom. Noctis is sitting up, now intrigued, and Prompto climbs back onto the bed. 

"Here." 

"What's that?" 

"Um, I was going to give it to you guys later. Like, in a book and shit," Prompto sits on his hands, and swallows. "Um." Noctis pulls out a stack of photos. Prompto sniffs. "It's all the pictures of us that I've taken since we started hanging out." 

Noctis's lips part in an abandoned inhale. He peels off the top of the pile, which is a photograph in the pizza parlor. Gladio and Noctis are on the other end of the booth, each with two slices in hand. The next photograph is their blurry selfie in the bowling alley. A picture of Gladio in front of the campfire. Their four burritos held together by the taco truck. Ignis and Noctis holding hands in front of the movie theater. A dumb selfie in the car. 

"Oh, Prompto..." he trails, carefully setting them aside one by one. His voice is thick. 

"King or no king..." Prompto starts. "I'm not going anywhere." He grins at a picture of Noctis shoving an entire burrito in his mouth, and Gladio looking at him dreamily. "I don't think any of us are. So worry about other things, okay?" 

Noctis sets aside the photos, and grabs Prompto in a one armed hug, cramming his face in his neck. Prompto doesn't know what he's been through — or even remotely  _what_ he's experiencing now, so the best Prompto can do is just  _be here._ He hopes it's enough. 

"I love you so fuckin’ much," Noctis says. Prompto kisses the top of his head.

“I fuckin’ love you too.”

 

 

* * *

 

The megabed has it's perks. 

Gladio sits up to read by the headboard, and Ignis has Noctis wrapped up in his arms, facing  _Prompto —_ and their phones click sometimes, when they hold them too close to each other. Every so often, when Gladio turns a page, he drops his hand down to pet through Ignis's hair. It's cute. 

"Leveled up," Prompto says. 

"Damn it," Noctis huffs. "Iggy, hop on and aid my party." 

"I left my device in the kitchen," Ignis says. 

"Lame."

Prompto has to kick his way through Noctis's legs to poke his toes into Iggy's feet. 

“Double lame.”

"You're cold," Ignis says. He playfully pats Noctis's hip, "What good are you?" 

"Sorry," Noctis says, pulling the blanket up over Prompto's shoulders. Prompto laughs. 

"I'm good dude." 

“Hm.”

Noctis pulls his phone away from his face, and leans forward to rub their noses together. 

"What's the verdict?" Ignis asks. 

"Lukewarm," Noctis says. He hauls the blanket up higher, so it covers their heads. The screens of their cellphones light up the blankets, and Prompto starts to giggle. "Better." 

Iggy pops his head under the blanket. "Am I invited?" 

Noctis turns in his arms. He kisses Ignis quick and lazy, and says, "No." 

Ignis laughs, "Oh?" 

"I need to see your papers." 

"That won't work twice," Gladio says distantly, from outside their blanket fort. The sheet lifts, and Gladio peers down at them. "The mayor of Fucktown died in an earthquake." 

"This isn't Fort Fucktown — may she rest in our memories," Noctis says. "This is Fort No Cheaters Allowed and you two are not welcome." 

Gladio rolls his eyes, "Are you really still on about that? It was  _one_ game of Uno."

“Yeah, that you cheated at.” 

“But you did not know we cheated until I told you,” Ignis hums. “So was it cheating?”

“Yes!!! It was!”

Prompto starts to laugh. Noctis breaks character, and giggles too. Prompto is so, so relieved to see him smiling again. Last week was hard for him; it was hard for them all. There's way too many cookies crammed in the fridge right now, and they all know who's to blame. 

The room starts to settle a little bit. Prompto presses his face between Noctis's shoulderblades, and breathes in. He's lost his phone in the sheets, but Noctis is warm, and smells really good, so he closes his eyes. There's the sound of Gladio turning a page. Noctis's phone clicks off, and he turns his head to look at the ceiling. 

"Guys." 

"Hm?" 

He pauses, gathering his thoughts. The silence goes on a little too long; the suspense starts to grow. 

"Well spit it out," says Gladio. 

"I know what I'm going to major in," Noctis says. 

"What?!" 

"You do!" 

"Yeah," Noctis says. "Law." 

There's a stunned silence. 

"Are—are you serious?" Ignis asks. 

"Yeah." 

"Wow," Gladio mumbles. "Not what I was expecting." 

"No way dude — I thought you'd say marine biology or architecture or something." 

"No," Noctis shakes his head. "I want to be a good king. I want to be good and just and I want to protect the people, even if it means protecting them from me." He turns, and looks at Ignis. "I don't want to run away from my duty anymore." 

There's a wet, shuddery inhale from Ignis. 

Gladio smiles, "I'm so proud of you babe." 

"I knew you'd get it," Prompto grins, and tugs on his ear. Ignis doesn't seem to trust himself to speak. He just pets across Noctis's cheek, fingers brushing Prompto's, and he tips his head up to kiss Noct’s forehead. Prompto wiggles his arm around Noctis's waist, and his knuckles brush Ignis's stomach. "It must be nice," he mumbles. 

"Huh?" 

"I mean!" He stammers, "I can't really comprehend the weight you have to carry. But — it must be nice to know exactly who you are. Who you're supposed to be. All...all three of you seem like you were born with a purpose." 

"I don't believe in such things," Ignis says, voice still a little thick. "Nobody truly knows what or who they're meant to be. You can only press forwards." 

Gladio sets down his book, and clicks off the lamp. He jokes, sliding down to pull Ignis against him. "Why so serious? It's only eleven." 

"Must've been something in the lasagna," Noctis jokes. 

"Excuse you, my lasagna was sublime." 

Prompto isn't sure where he dazes off. But he falls asleep face down, arm slung across Noct, and somehow wakes up on the other side, wedged between Ignis and Gladio. He's not going to ask questions he doesn't want the answer to, so Prompto closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

He walks into the living room, laptop and textbook in hand. Prompto has been studying in his room for so long, he hopes a slight change of scenery will give him a kick to the head. 

He manages to set his stuff on the table, before he looks to the couch and pauses. 

"God, I love you," Prompto says. 

Gladio laughs. Noctis is asleep at his back, snuggled up as the big spoon, and Gladio is in the kitty headband that Prompto gave him. 

"Love you too. But can you bring me my charger?" 

Prompto nods, turning around on his heel and walking back into their room. He digs around through Gladio's crap, and comes back with his phone charger. He tosses it at him, and Gladio catches it. 

"Thanks babe." 

Prompto crawls into his seat on the kitchen table, and clicks his pencil before flipping the page in his textbook. Gladio plugs in his phone, and reclines back on the couch.  Prompto strongly resists the urge to go dig for his camera so he can  _actually_ get this essay done. He gets another sentence in, before he looks back over. 

"What about your homework?" 

"I'm meeting a study group tomorrow," Gladio says, tapping at his phone. "I'll do it then." 

Prompto hums. He scratches out something on his homework and rubs his eyes. He cannot fucking believe that midterms are two weeks away. The passage of time cannot be real. 

Gladio lowers his phone. 

"You alright?" 

"Yeap," Prompto scrubs through his hair and inhales. "Science shit." 

"You've been at it all day, man. Come take a break." 

"I'm fine." 

"Proooompto," Noctis sleepily calls. "Come on." 

He cracks a smile, "Now you're just not playing fair." 

"Prom."

"Prompto." 

"Prompty."

"Pronto."

"Promster."

"Promilicious." 

"Promilicious definition make them boys go-" 

He starts laughing, "Both of you?! Seriously — there's no room!" 

Gladio turns to his back, and Noctis slides over him, face down. Gladio pats Noct's butt like he's playing the drums, "Cm'ere. Tons of room, dude." 

" _And_ you want me to go to the gym with you later? I'll never get back up." 

Noctis beckons without even lifting his head. This is the worst kind of peer pressure. 

Prompto sighs. 

"I'm so weak." 

"Yay!" 

Prompto sets down his pencil, and patters over. Noctis wiggles, and makes just enough room for Prompto to climb on Gladio’s left side. Gladio grunts a little from his weight, but Prompto mimic's Noctis's position, and face plants in Gladio's chest. His shirt is one of the old big ones, that are super soft from being washed so much. 

"Oh great and wondrous tits-" Prompto prays, muffled, "- please heal my brain." 

Noctis starts to ugly laugh, and Gladio squeezes him super tight with his free arm, partly in reprimand. 

"Ha-ha. Super funny." 

They're kind of a spaghetti bowl of limbs. Prompto rubs his thighs into Gladio's, and relishes in the fact that he's not wearing real pants. 

"Mmrmgm." 

"What was that?" 

"You have great legs," Prompto repeats. 

"Agreed," Noctis says.

"And you're a — what is it Iggy calls you?" 

"A  _tart,_ " Noctis says, perfectly mimicking Ignis's accent. They both laugh. 

The T.V. is on mute, so it's kinda' quiet. Prompto closes his eyes, and lulls to the feeling of Gladio rubbing up and down his back. Noctis is curled up like a fucking cat, cheek pressed up against Gladio's. 

The front door unlocks, and Prompto didn't realize it was that time already. 

"What have we here?" 

"Hey babe. How was class?"

Ignis sets his keys on the counter, and methodically takes off his jacket, folding it over the back of the kitchen chair. "As well as I've come to expect. I'll write any essay under the sun, but one more group presentation and I, to be frank, will fucking lose it." 

Noctis and Prompto laugh. 

"You don't technically have to graduate, right?" Prompto blinks,"You've already got a job for life." 

Ignis narrows his eyes. "It’s about the  _principle._  I won't allow myself to lose." 

Gladio extends a hand, and Ignis takes it and squeezes, leaning over to peck him. 

"I see you've been productive." 

"Yup." 

"We can squeeze," Noctis muffles. 

"Definitely not," Ignis laughs.

"Why?" Gladio pats his own cheek, "I have your seat right here." 

Ignis flicks his ear, and ignores him. 

"Would anyone like to help me cook dinner?" 

"Pfft, no." 

"I will," Prompto says, wiggling up. Ignis ruffles through his hair and smiles, 

"Always such a good boy." 

"Teachers pet." 

"Lazy ass." 

Noctis sticks out his tongue, and Prompto sticks it back.  Gladio makes a grab for Noctis's tongue, but he pulls it back just in time. 

Ignis starts to roll up his sleeves, washing his hands, and Prompto yawns, raising his arms above his head and stretching. He'll just have to finish his assignment tomorrow morning. Ugh. 

"Oh, Prom," Noctis sits up, popping his back. "I forgot to tell you." 

"What?" 

"I talked to my dad today." 

"Oh yeah? How's he doing?" 

"Good. He wants to meet you." 

"Oh," Prompto says, washing his hands. "Okay." 

A long pause.

Ignis sniffs.

Gladio coughs.

Prompto dries his hands, and stares into the distance. 

 

 

 

_"WAIT A SECOND!"_

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

Class, homework, late nights, study guides — and then midterms. It comes so quickly, Prompto wishes he could slow down time. He tries to focus on the present. 

But fuck, he doesn't want to think about  _this._

Prompto is so nervous, he can't even walk right. Gladio and Ignis have already packed their bags, and are prepping the apartment, shutting windows and clearing out some of the perishables in the fridge. 

Noctis waited until the last moment to pack (of course) but all he does is throw some underwear and an extra shirt in a backpack and call it a day. 

The car ride eases his nerves. Ignis drives with a hand on his thigh, and Noctis sits up on the back of the convertible and sings bad pop songs, and Gladio leans an arm up on the door and reads. It’s normal. It’s them.

Prompto supposes he maybe, sorta' deserves this. He  _did_ make them sit through the obligatory  _'meet the boyfriends'_  phonecall with his Aunt. It could've been worse, but his twelve year old cousin  _did_ grab the phone and scream  _"HOW COME PROMPTO CAN HAVE THREE BOYFRIENDS WHEN I CAN'T EVEN HAVE ONE!!!"_

Alright, no, forget it. Prompto does not deserve this. 

He's standing here, chin up, staring at an endless ascending staircase. There's marble and pearls and crownsguard standing at the doorways. They had to go through  _at least_ three security checks to make it onto the grounds, and now that the Regalia has purred to a stop, Prompto can feel his stomach in his throat. 

He gazes up at the top. There's a big doorway; it radiates gold and beauty and it's a place Prompto doesn't belong at all. Not in his jeans and his patch jacket. 

"Come on." Noctis takes his hand, "Dad is waiting." 

_Dad._

_King Regis._

"It's okay," Gladio smiles, and presses a hand to his back. "We're right here." 

"Ah, I remember when I first met the king," Ignis says, slowly climbing the stairs alongside them. "You have nothing to worry about, I assure you." A pause. "Most likely." 

"Most likely!?" 

The three of them laugh, and Prompto elbows Noctis, huffing when he laughs harder. They climb further up the staircase. Prompto feels the squeeze in his stomach start to ease. 

He thinks about their singing in the car. About the photograph Ignis wedged in the dashboard. Gladio hip checks Prompto into Noctis, and Noctis nearly stumbles — reaching around to try and smack Gladio back, and Prompto finally laughs. It really doesn't matter  _where_ they are. Somehow, it always manages to feel like home. 

"Hey, you know what we should do after this?" 

"What's that?" 

He smiles. 

 

 

 

 

"We should go on a road trip." 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They're in this for the long run now. He'll stand by that. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  _"The decreed hour has come."_

 

 

 

_"There's business to be held in Altissia."_

 

 

 

_"I ask not that you guide my wayward son. Merely that you remain at his side."_

 

 

 

_"Uh huh. Ever at your side."_

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's done!! thank you for making it this far. if u liked this, i have another ot4 fic called [The Web](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17145083). Thanks again!
> 
>  
> 
> Iggy's List of Noctis Food Crimes Punishable By Death: 
> 
> -lighting an entire marshmallow on fire  
> -pouring soy sauce directly in his mouth  
> -dipping his pizza in ketchup  
> -sticking an entire cube of cheese in a glass of wine

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://zanimez.tumblr.com/)


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